


Unite Descent: A Siri Tachi Tale

by WavesBlade



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Descent into the Dark Side, F/M, Heroes to Villains, Manipulation, Murder, Psychological Torture, Rape, Sith Training, Sith/Dark Siri, Torture, Villains to Heroes, not quite redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-10 20:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 183,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WavesBlade/pseuds/WavesBlade
Summary: AU: 39 BBY, Darth Sideous by chance discovers a Jedi mission to protect a young genius, Talesan Fry. Interested, he decides to test Maul's training, dispatching him from the Orsis Academy to retrieve the boy in order to further the Sith's machinations. He follows in quiet observation, watching as Maul subtly separates the two pairs of Jedi guarding the boy. He expected a clean kill, a dead Jedi Master and Padawan. What he got? A dead apprentice, a dead Jedi Master, and a fallen Jedi Padawan whose anger proved most enticing... most enticing indeed...Sith/Dark Siri.





	1. Descent

* * *

Senator Sheev Palpatine, otherwise known as Darth Sideous, tapped a finger on his desk thoughtfully, his eyes washing over a datapad resting infront of him. He often kept tabs on missions that the Jedi were sent on. Usually, it was to keep him and his ' _master'_ aware of the enemies movements. Sometimes though, it was prudent to get involved. This one was tempting, so very tempting, yet risky. He was unsure if he should simply pass over it or not.

Two pairs of Jedi were being sent out to recover and guard a young genius by the name of Talesan Fray. He briefly browsed over what was known about the boy, and raised an eyebrow at the information of the boy creating his own custom listening device that could overhear and tap into secure transmissions. It wasn't anything particularly amazing, there were already devices that could do that, though a custom built one could have uses in the short-term. Yet more importantly... developing such a thing at the age of ten? Now that was potential, potential that could be bent towards the goals of the Sith.

Snatching the boy away from the Jedi would be difficult without risking revealing himself, so his own efforts were ill advised. But... his young soon to be apprentice? Now this could be a proper test for Maul. Should he though? Maul was not skilled enough to take on four Jedi, not yet. Even a single Master and Padawan pair could be dangerous for him at this point. He glanced over the assigned Jedi briefly, one Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice young Obi-Wan Kenobi, and one Adi Gallia and her young apprentice Siri Tachi. Both Masters were not ordinary Jedi, and the second was a High Council member. Their padawans were young, not even eighteen yet, but the masters themselves...

Maul's chances of victory seemed slim. The young acolyte was still training at the Orsis Academy, soon to be taking the Gora. Maul would either have to separate the Jedi and dispose of them one by one, or spirit the child away undetected, which would be preferred. Could he manage to do so? He didn't particularly care if Maul died, but it would be such a waste of a potential resource, and Sideous sensed Maul would be a useful tool for years to come. Not to mention if he failed and was caught, that was a great risk to the Grand Plan. No, there was no need for this, there would be other opportunities. He was about to turn off the datapad and simply go about his day, passing up on the chance...

Yet...

He closed his eyes briefly, submersing into the Dark Side of the Force and demanding an answer. Would the genius child be of great service to the Sith? Was his would-be apprentice capable of handling this test?

The Dark Side answered, and Sideous's world warped and changed as a vision took him.

_He saw himself push aside the datapad and pass up on the chance. In his mind's eye, Maul appeared, growing in age rapidly until he stood as a fearsome and deadly Sith Assassin. He saw the tool complete one task after another for his Master for years to come in brief flashes. Until at last, he saw Maul engage two blurry Jedi in open combat in a palace that looked a lot like the Theed Royal Palace, announcing the return of the Sith and the beginning of their revenge._

_Then..._

_He saw himself take the chance and contact Maul. He saw the acolyte stalk his prey across worlds. The flash of red and blue and purple, the clashing of lightsabers. He saw death, a Jedi run through, then... a ripple of unfamiliar darkness, pain and loss and anger and hate, a surge so powerful and enticing, a new darkness that swallowed Maul whole effortlessly. And in his place, something new resided in shadow. It was humanoid, dressed in the robes of a Sith apprentice, but hidden half in darkness, it's face shielded from view. He saw himself in the shadows, pulling the figure further in, while an unknown Jedi grabbed the figure's hand and tried to pull it out into the light. In the darkness, a pair of tormented blue eyes flickered between blue and yellow, between a gray presence, and an immense darkness truly worthy of the Sith..._

Sideous let out a small gasp as the Dark Side released him, a purr in his ear. _Certainty and power, uncertainty and immense potential, choose..._

While the future was always in motion, and nothing was guaranteed, it wasn't really a choice, given a chance to think on it. A tool, or a potential true apprentice. He would allow Maul the chance to prove himself, but if he failed to retrieve the boy or kill the Jedi if discovered, then he wasn't going to complain if the Dark Side was content to deliver him a new apprentice. He did not care for the paltry Jedi attempting to draw this unknown apprentice back into the light, once claimed by the darkness, there was no return. He rose from his desk and moved to contact Maul without hesitation, contemplating one question.

Who was this potential new apprentice?

* * *

Siri Tachi sighed and grumbled quietly to herself. She couldn't believe that the bounty hunter Magnus got away. After all that chaos, all that work, nearly dying on the ship, Master Qui-Gon Jinn simply let him go. She understood why, to safeguard The boy, Talesan Fry, Taly for short. She briefly glanced over to the other side of the room they were resting in on Rondai-2. The boy was being tended to by a medical droid and had just finished up, looking around anxiously. She was glad he was okay, yet it was so frustrating after all the hell the bounty hunter put them through. Though... if he hadn't, she and Obi-Wan wouldn't have admitted that they... well...

Her eyes briefly averted to the boy talking to his Master before taking them away from him and causing herself to silently brood. Her master liked to tease her about being headstrong, but she had no idea what she was supposed to do or think about him. She had never felt so lost in something before. She could handle most crap life threw at her. But love? That... that was something unknown, and forbidden. For all Obi-Wan had suggested about keeping their feelings a secret, or changing the Order, she had doubts. But the thought of it, the image of them working together as Jedi Masters, still in love... it made her stomach twist in an uncomfortable yet hopeful sensation. She supposed she'd have to wait and see. They had agreed to wait until after the mission was over to discuss it, which would be soon once the transport to Coruscant arrived...

Her thoughts trailed off as a subtle ripple in the Force drew her attention. Her first instinct was to look to her Master, but Adi didn't seem to notice. Neither did Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan. Odd. What was...

Her eyes went wide when she noticed that Taly was gone. "Master Gallia, where did Taly go?"

Her Master paused her conversation with a Guard and turned to her, eyebrows furrowed, before glancing over at the now vacated spot next to the medical droid. "He was just..."

"Qui-Gon!" called out Adi without a hesitation, "The boy's gone!"

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan whirled, looking around, the Master grew concerned. "He was just here a moment ago."

"Split up," ordered Adi, "Siri and I well check outside, you and padawan Kenobi check inside."

Qui-Gon nodded and left, Obi-Wan lingered for a moment longer, his eyes locking on Siri. She gave a weak, tentative smile, and then turned to follow her Master out of the building. Siri closed her eyes and reached out with the Force, and heard a whisper in response: _To the left_...

She turned in time to catch sight of Taly being carried unconscious by an unknown person in a black robe slinking along the outside of the building towards a trio of speeders. "Master! There!"

The moment her voice rang out the figure bolted straight for the speeders and leaped on. Siri and her Master rushed after him as he turned it on and flew off. In unison, they leaped onto the remaining speeders, ignited them, and took off. They roared out of the area, then the city, out into hilly countryside, the kidnapper barely still in their vision. Siri gritted her teeth in frustration. The mission was supposed to be over! She had way to much crap to deal with a sort through, namely a boy with gray-blue eyes, to have it starting up all over again!

"Focus and center yourself Padawan," came her Master's voice over the howling wind.

Siri's only response was to gun the engines full-throttle. She WAS focused, on catching the kidnapper and ending this stupid mission! Her speeder caught up with the kidnapper's as a ship came into view, hidden under the canopy of a few tree's and nestled between two hills. Oh no, he was NOT getting away! She swerved away and then swerved back, making to ram into the speeder. She was surprised when the kidnapper leapt off just before they collided, Taly on his shoulder, and flipped through the air. Siri barely had the time to do the same, lunging off the speeder before it could hit the other now uncontrolled one. There was a hiss of sparks a crunch of metal as the two speeders collided and crashed into a hillside at full speed, exploding in a gush of fire and parts. Siri rolled as she hit the ground, coming to her feet in time to see the kidnapper land on the ground and start for the ship.

Siri leaped, drawing her lightsaber as she did, and landed in front of him, igniting her violet blade. "Stop!"

She caught sight of an irritated scowl under the black cowl, the kidnapper's head turning briefly as Master Gallia slowed to a stop a bit behind him and climbed off her speeder.

"Siri," came Gallia's own irritated voice, "We're going to have a long talk about disobedience and safe flying practices when this is over."

Siri resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I couldn't let it get away Master."

Adi took the cue and focused on the kidnapper. "Put the boy down and surrender."

The kidnapper did nothing for a minute, thinking and weighing his options, before he slowly reached up a hand and flipped back his hood. Siri's eyes widened at what she saw underneath. A young face, around her age, but the face itself... red and black tattoos, a horned head, those sickly yellow eyes... Siri felt a spike of fear and took a step back, her lightsaber briefly wavering before she shook her head and refocused, determined not to be intimidated.

"Jedi," spat the kidnapper with distaste.

The breath left Siri's body as she suddenly felt darkness ripple through the air around the young man. Adi stiffened as well, surprised. The kidnapper took the initiative and threw Taly at Siri with a Force assisted momentum. Siri scrambled back, dropping her lightsaber in order to safely catch the boy.

_Snap-hiss._

Siri glanced up away from the boy and was shocked, a small gasp escaping her lips, to see the kidnapper igniting a red lightsaber and launching himself at a momentarily surprised Master Gallia. Her Master barely managed to get her lightsaber up and activated in time, but did not block cleanly. Instead of being run through, she smashed the attack ungracefully up away from her chest, and into her right shoulder. Adi hissed and stumbled back in pain, switching her lightsaber to her offhand as her attacker gleefully continued his attack.

Her Master's pain rippling through the Force knocked Siri out of her stunned stupor. A dark Jedi, it was a dark Jedi! Oh kriff! As if Xanatos and Bruck hadn't been bad enough! No, they weren't bad enough, not nearly as dark as the man before them. The man... the man who had just hurt her Master!

Siri narrowed her eyes in anger, dropped the unconscious Taly aside, grabbed her saber, and burst forward with a cry, "Master Gallia!"

"Stay back Siri!" ordered her Master as she painfully continued her defense.

Oh no, Siri was not standing for that! Her Master was hurt, fighting clumsily with her none-dominate hand. She needed her help! Or... or...

She felt fear at the thought of her Master dying and struggled to contain it as she arrived and frantically swung her lightsaber at the man's back. He turned and parried the attack before lashing out with a boot and slamming it into Siri's stomach, sending her stumbling back and to the ground on her butt, breath leaving her body. Without another care, the man turned and blocked an attempt by Master Gallia to take the offensive.

Siri bristled at being so easily knocked aside and dismissed, her anger simmering. She clambered to her feet and rushed at him again. Despite being attacked on both sides, he easily switched back and forth between the injured Master and angered Padawan, his lightsaber a red blur.

With a spin, the man turned and lashed out at Siri, forcing her to stumble back and parry the decapitating slice away. She yelped as the man threw a hand forward and sent her launching backwards with a ripple of screaming energy. She landed on her back, stunned, her ribs protesting painfully, before slowly rising to a knee. Master Gallia was struggling, the wound in her shoulder might have been cauterized by the lightsaber, but the strenuous act of a lightsaber battle was ripping the burnt flesh open. Blood was leaking down her shoulder. Each parry, block, and strike sent a flash of pain through her face and the Force. She was losing strength and focus fast.

In the span of an instant, the dark Jedi smashed his blade into Master Gallia's, knocking it away from her body and out of her hands. Siri's eyes widened as the man made to cut her down.

"NO!" screamed Siri, throwing out her hands.

The Force responded to her fear, rippling through the air and slamming into the dark Jedi, sending him flying away from her Master. To her chagrin, the wave of Force energy also flattened her Master to the ground. Siri scrambled to close the distance and stood in front of her Master, lightsaber bared in her defense.

"You stay the kriff away from her!" yelled Siri, her hands and voice trembling.

Force... by the Force... she had almost lost her... lost Master Gallia.

"Siri," came a pained voice from her Master, "Calm yourself and focus, you are my Padawan, a Jedi, control your emotions."

Siri briefly bristled. They were in the middle of a life and death battle and Master wanted to chide her?

The Dark Jedi slowly stalked forward, eying her. "Little Jedi, if your Master couldn't stop me, what makes you think you can?"

Siri glared at him, anger spiking. "Master Gallia would have trashed you if you didn't catch her offguard you sleemo!"

"Siri!" barked Master Gallia, "Focus! Whats gotten into you? Your emotions are all over the place!"

Siri blinked a few times and took a deep breath, trying to contain herself. The mission. Obi-Wan and their fledgling love. The Dark Jedi's foul presence. Almost losing her Master. She felt so raw and unhinged and jittery at the moment. She needed... Master was right, she needed to focus and calm down. Unfortunately, the Dark Jedi gave her no chance to, launching himself at her with a spin through the air, coming down with a hard overhead blow. Siri dove to the side and then made to swipe at his shoulder, only for him to pull back. The Dark Jedi bared his teeth in a cruel smile and rushed forward again, unleashing an onslaught of quick thrusts and swipes that forced Siri to backpedal and scramble to keep up. Fear crawled up her spine, this guy was good. Not as good as a fresh Jedi Master in their prime, not yet, but far ahead of a mere Padawan. Bleak terror coursed through her, she was going to die, she was always prepared for that as a Jedi, but to do so before she and Obi-Wan could even figure things out...

With a heavy uppercut, the Dark Jedi sent Siri's lightsaber flying, his own blade lightly scraping and burning Siri's Jedi tunic. He half turned, pulled his lightsaber back, and made to thrust and run Siri through before she had a chance to recover. Siri's eyes went wide before she closed them and turned her head...

Only to yelp as someone slammed into her. Her eyes opened to see Master Gallia shove her aside and take the blow meant for Siri. She watched in horror to see that red lightsaber erupt out of her Master's back. The Dark Jedi pulled his lightsaber out and watched, smug and gleefully riding a dark high, as the Jedi Master collapsed to the ground at his feet.

"MASTER!" screamed Siri, rushing forward and falling to her knees at her Master's side.

"Siri...," whispered Master Gallia, "Run..."

"No... no no no no no...," whispered Siri, her hands shakily on her Master's arm, staring down at the hole in the woman's chest.

There was the faint scuffing of boots on the ground as the Dark Jedi began to circle and taunt his prey. "Pathetic, I was lead to believe Jedi Masters were worthy and dangerous foes. I'm not even done my training yet and it was easy. Tell me little Jedi, how does it feel to watch her die?"

"No... she's... she's not going to die!" yelled Siri in denial, shaking her Master, "Get up Master... please..."

Master Gallia gave Siri one last hazy look, opened her mouth as if to say something, before the light went out of her eyes and her head lolled to the side. Siri felt it the moment she died and passed on into the Force. The moment her bond with her Master, the connection between them, was ripped away. She clutched her head and screamed in agony as her end of the bond ruptured, bleeding out into her, if not physically, then mentally and through the Force. She shook uncontrollably with pain and grief, staring down into her Master's lifeless eyes and still form.

"You have no one but yourself to blame little Jedi," taunted the Dark Jedi, "It's not her fault you were so _weak_ that she had to die for you to survive for another minute."

Siri flinched. Guilt and shame rocked her, forcing her to look away from her Master's corpse, tears streaming down her face. Her fault... it was her fault...

The Dark Jedi finished his circling and stopped a ways infront of Siri. "What a sight. I'm tempted to disobey orders and go after the other Jedi. I wonder if killing the other Padawan's master and breaking him will be as elating as it was for you and yours."

Siri's blood ran cold. "Obi... Wan..."

"Is that the other Padawan's name?" asked the Dark Jedi gleefully, "Would you like to see him die to?"

Siri's eyes went wide for a moment, and then... then... something replaced her pain, her grief, her sadness and sorrow. First it was cold gripping fear for Obi-Wan, the desire to not see him harmed, to not suffer as she was...

Abruptly, the temperature around them plummeted, enough for the Dark Jedi's breathing to suddenly become visible. Something in Siri changed and warped as rage, dark cold rage entered her, followed by deep hate as she glared up at the Dark Jedi.

The Dark Jedi's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that...?"

" _You wont touch him_ ," came out a hushed, cold and deadly whisper, parting out Siri's lips like a hiss on a snakes tongue.

With a furious war cry, Siri's lightsaber flew into her hands, demanded there by the Force at her will. She burst forward, feeling invigorated and empowered, driven by a determination to see this beast **dead** and **_her_** Obi-Wan safe. She, like he did her Master, took the Dark Jedi completely off-guard. Her first slash knocked aside his saber like it was a twig and cut from his lower right stomach up diagonal across his right breast. It wasn't nearly deep enough for Siri's tastes, but the howl of pain that ripped from his mouth at her saber's searing touch was _oh so_ satisfying. She battered him back, swinging her lightsaber in Force fueled blows that were coming far to heavily to be naturally from her arms. Her foe fell back from each rage fueled strike, naked fear in his eyes. Oh that fear... what a rush!

She pursued him, a hungry growl escaping her lips, as he staggered away, looking towards the ship, and for a brief moment, she felt relief and hope emanate from him as he gasped out. "Master!"

Siri's eyes briefly flickered to the ship, it's open ramp, but there was nothing there aside from dark shadows, and nothing in the Force that she could sense. She felt disgusted, had some deranged madman really slain her Master? The mere thought of it sent another spike of rage through her as she shot after him. The hope and relief faded, replaced by confusion, then a sensation of anger and betrayal. Whatever aid he expected wasn't coming, wasn't real. He turned back to Siri and met her charge. She swung down in a brutal overhead strike, and he raised his blade to block. For a few split seconds, he held his own, purple and red sabers crossing against one another in a test of strength. But at this point, Siri didn't care about strength, skill, or fair play. She just wanted it **DEAD**!

She raised a foot while he was looking up at her saber, and slammed her boot right into his crotch. The beasts eyes bulged as he gasped and staggered back, his lightsaber moving out of line as he lost his focus and concentration. With one swift motion, Siri brought her lightsaber down, severing his sword hand from his body, and then in a smooth spinning backstroke, took his head clean from his body before he could even scream. Dark elation ripped out of her body as she watched his body, his hand, and then his severed head hit the ground. She threw her head back and raised her hands into the air, a triumphant yell escaping her lips.

"I did it Master Gallia! I...," she began, grinning ear to ear in a twisted teeth bared smile.

Then it all came crashing down on her. Slowly her smile left her, along with her elation, her rage, and her hate. Her eyes fell on her Master's corpse. She silently walked over before falling to her knees and dropping her lightsaber. She tenderly reached out and drew her Master close, putting her head on her apprentices lap. She felt numb, cold, pained, her strength leaving her all the sudden, her broken and festering bond aching in her mind. She felt weary and tired. She wanted to go home to the temple, curl up in her bed, and cry herself to sleep. She knew she'd alarm anyone who knew her with such an act so bizarre and unusual from her, but she didn't care anymore. She was tired of the tough girl act, didn't have the strength for it, all she had left to show was raw grief.

"Oh Master...," whispered Siri mournfully, "I'm so sorry..."

"The dead can't hear your apologies," came a cold, cruel voice, "Nor would they care."

Siri looked up, and her blood froze. Descending the ramp from the beast's ship was a figure wrapped in a black cloak. She could feel nothing from him, but his voice... merely looking at him sent a horrific chill through her body. Two things ran through her mind. The first was every urge in her body screaming at her to run. The second was a sad, resigned whisper from the Force that made no sense to her: _You chose this fate when you bore the power he wields_...

"And let it be said, I will tolerate no other Master before me, even a dead one," said the man as he reached the bottom of the ramp, a dark, possessive gleam in his twisted and putrid yellow eyes shining from under his hood, " ** _My_** apprentice."

She looked at him, bewildered, confused, and alarmed. "W-who are you?"

The man drew closer, and as he did, all light in the area seemed to shrink away, leaving just the man in a swirling black vortex in her mind's eye. "For now, Darth Sideous will do, but in time..."

A dark chuckle escaped his lips as he raised his hands, curled fingers flexing. "You will learn to call me Master."

Lightning burst forth from his hands and slammed into Siri, sending her to the ground screaming in horrific agony as blackness tore through her vision and consciousness left her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An idea that has been sitting in my head for awhile. There's not nearly enough Siri focused stories, or even one where she is the main character. A Sith/Dark Siri? I can't remember finding one yet. I don't know when I'll really be able to pick it up and go, as I have a bunch of other stories I need to actually finish at the moment, but I didn't want to let it sit in my head unwritten and become forgotten. So here it is as a 'story proposal', let me know if ya'll are interested.


	2. The Pain of Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Psychological, Physical, and Force torture of an adolescent.

Young Obi-Wan Kenobi viewed the devastation with a bleakness that he had not felt since Cerasi has been murdered on Melida/Daan. Three speeder parts were everywhere, blown to bits. There were large scorch marks from a ships lasercannons all across the area. Master Gallia... she... what was left of her was half melted into the ground, they couldn't tell if she had died before or after the ship had blasted her. There were few remaining pieces to her lightsaber sown around...

And of Siri...

There was nothing left...

He chocked a little bit, tears on his face, and fell to his knees.

"Oh Padawan mine," came Qui-Gon's tired voice, kneeling behind him and embracing him in a hug, "I'm sorry. I wish I had known how you felt and put a stop to it before this happened."

Obi-Wan bristled in anger. "Is... is that all?! You don't even care that she's... she's..."

He felt a brief flash of indignation and white hot anger down the bond before Qui-Gon smothered it and released it into the Force. "No, no my Padawan that's not it. I'm saddened by the loss of Master Gallia and her Padawan. What I meant was that I wanted you not to suffer as I have. To lose someone who meant so much to you, like... like myself and..."

Qui-Gon trailed off uncomfortably, but Obi-Wan finished quietly, "Tahl."

"Yes," Qui-Gon whispered out.

They were silent for a moment before Qui-Gon sighed. "The two of us are hopeless, aren't we? Doomed to love and lose it, ignorant of why the Code forbids it to begin with."

There was a sad, pained wistfulness that they shared down the bond before Obi-Wan spoke up, "Master... I... can we not tell the Council about what we sensed?"

Qui-Gon said nothing for a moment. "Padawan mine..."

"I don't want to disgrace her memory," said Obi-Wan sullenly, "I know how the temple rumor mill works, if anyone caught wind that Siri... that she..."

He couldn't finish it. Couldn't word the horror of what he felt. Through the Force, they had felt Master Gallia and Siri engage in battle, but they could not detect what they had fought again. There had been no sensation in the Force, so most likely droids. They had felt Master Gallia's surprise and pain, followed by Siri's collapsing emotional control. Then, after they felt her Master died, that...

"That she fell...," Obi-Wan whispered mournfully.

That darkness, that rage and hate that he had felt erupt at a distance from Siri. It was the most awful thing he had ever felt, at least until a massive burst of pain followed by Siri's presence being abruptly cut away hit him. It was a cruel thing, to lose her master, to lose herself, and then to lose her life. It wasn't fair... they hadn't had the chance to make a decision on what they felt for one another...

"They'd consider her a disgrace, they'd tarnish her name rather than mourn or remember her," he said with frustration.

Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "Lying to the council? What happened to the obedient Padawan who revered them?"

Obi-Wan didn't have it in him at the moment to share in the joke. "Please..."

Qui-Gon sighed and rose to his feet. "On one condition Padawan. Don't let yourself give into grief as I did, to rage and chase after her killers as I did with Tahl's."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. "Hard to do when we don't know where that coward Magnus ran to."

Qui-Gon tugged with warning on Obi-Wan's braid. "Padawan, we don't even know if it was him."

"Who else would it be?!" exclaimed Obi-Wan, rising to his feet and turning towards his master, "They wanted Taly silenced, and probably wanted revenge for us stopping them!"

"I don't know," said Qui-Gon, eyebrows furrowed, "But my instincts tell me this was the work of someone else."

He leveled a stern, but sad gaze on him. "Promise me Padawan."

Obi-Wan took in a shaky breath before letting it out. "Alright... I won't. I will do my duty as a Jedi. It's..."

He trailed off for a moment before finishing, "It's what Siri would want me to do..."

Qui-Gon nodded solemnly. "I'll give you a few minutes to center yourself, then we need to contact the authorities, and then the Council."

Qui-Gon began to walk away, rubbing his eyes tiredly and muttering, "We lost the one we were to protect, lost a High Council Member and her promising Padawan, and that doesn't even begin to describe how the mission itself went. This... this was a complete and utter disaster."

Obi-Wan didn't have the strength to voice his agreement; He simply knelt down on the ground in a quiet, stressed attempt at meditation, his hands gripping the dirt, pulling it up, then letting it fall through his fingers. "I'm so sorry Siri..."

He glanced up into the sky and whispered mournfully, "I won't forget you, I promise..."

* * *

Siri Tachi jolted awake at the sound of a pain filled scream of loss ripping through her mind, a nightmarish haze plaguing her. She blinked her eyes a few times, finding herself in utter darkness. She rose to a sitting position, reaching up to massage her aching head, when a certain noise caught her attention.

The rattling of chains.

She shook away her tiredness and felt along her wrists, to a tight bracelet attached to chains that she ran her fingers down until they hit the floor. She shifted her legs and felt the same from them. She could sit up, and maybe stand, but she couldn't go far.

She was a prisoner. Great...

Frustration and anger ripped through her. What the kriff was going on? She remembered the mission, remembered chasing down Taly's kidnapper, remembered...

A choked sob escaped her lips. She remembered her Master's death. Afterwords, the fight against that murdering beast was a red haze in her memories. But what happened afterwords? Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

She remembered... a man in a black cloak, sinister sickly yellow eyes... and that lightning. She remembered something else though, he had called her something...

She growled and yanked on the chains with irritation. She had been a prisoner before on other missions, but this... this ticked her off more than usual. Left her angry and unsettled. Force, she felt... felt so angry. Something... something felt off, but she couldn't place what it was. Something felt different inside of her...

She froze when suddenly light entered her prison. She winced briefly at the sudden glare before she focused, noting a holoscreen had just lit up on the far side of her cell. Strange... why would she be given access to a holoscreen if she was a prisoner and...

A strangled gasp escaped her lips as the holoscreen started playing a silent recording of the confrontation with the Dark Jedi. Her anger faded, and fear surfaced. She watched, fearfully mesmerized, as the encounter ticked by, and then...

It was like losing Master Gallia all over again as she watched her Master shove her aside and take the killing blow, take the lightsaber right through her chest. She sobbed and looked away, curling up into a ball, unable to stand watching anymore.

The recording continued until it finished and flickered off. For a moment, she was in darkness again, then, it started up again. Only this time, there was sound. Siri began to tremble as the sound of lightsabers clashing ripped through the cell, and flinched when she heard herself scream over her Master's death.

When it finished, it restarted again. Siri curled up tighter and placed her hands over her ears. "Stop..."

It didn't stop, it went through again, and not even covering her ears could shield them from the sound of that scream, from being forced to relive that memory. It kept on repeating, only the volume kept increasing.

"Stop it!" Siri cried out.

It didn't. It got even worse. The recording started getting shorter, cutting out the lead up to the fight. Instead of ten minutes between that scream, she had eight, then five, then three, then the scream was repeating once per minute.

Siri sobbed and shivered uncontrollably, "Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

"Only you can make it stop," came a cold voice.

Siri bolted upright and glanced around fearfully, trying, but failing, to lock onto the voice that sounded far to close for comfort.

"Look at yourself," murmured the voice, as the the recording started over again with the un-shortened version, "Look at that _pitiful_ performance. It's no wonder your former Master died."

Siri suckered in a breath and looked away, new tears freshly falling.

"You don't deny it," mused the voice.

Siri felt like there was ash in her mouth. "No... I don't."

She flinched as once again the scream erupted from the holorecording.

"Now look," whispered the voice hungrily, "And watch, see the power that you wielded once you broke your chains."

Siri didn't look, electing a 'tsk' from the voice.

"Just make it stop," Siri couldn't help but beg, "Please."

"Please?" mocked the voice, "From what I've learned of you, browsing the Jedi's personnel files, recordings, and mission logs, I would have thought begging beneath you. Where is your pride? Where is your headstrong and confident attitude young one?"

She looked away, shaking as the recording started again. "I... don't care... just make it stop... I can't watch, can't hear her die anymore...

"You can't bear your weakness," mused the voice, "Unfortunately for you. I don't believe in _mercy_."

She shifted uneasily at the venom he spat out that last word with.

"If you want it to stop, _make it stop_ ," ordered the voice.

For a moment, her pain gave away to indignation and irritation as she flapped her arms and rattled the chains. "Kind of hard to do when I'm chained to the kriffing floor!"

"If you don't wish to be chained, _then free yourself_ ," said the voice, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Siri sucked in a breath, and slowly let it out, trying to calm herself. She ran a shaky hand along the bracelet, the chains, to the floor it was connected to. There was no weakness she could feel.

"Got a key lying around somewhere?" she deadpanned.

That elected an amused chuckle from the voice. "The only key is _yourself_ young one."

Siri did her best to squash down the horrific guilt and pain she felt from the loss of her Master, summoning up her courage. "You won't be able to keep me here forever. The Jedi will find me."

There was an amused barking laughter. "Even if they knew where you were, why would they come for you, my little fallen Jedi? Unless you mean they'd come to kill you."

Siri froze for a moment, whispering, "Fallen?"

Her rage spiked, the chains binding her rattling as the Force swirled around her. "Excuse me?! I am not fallen! I'm not dark!"

She gasped as a cold hand grabbed the back of her head and twisted to force her head towards the holoscreen. "I beg to differ little one. Watch."

She didn't have a chance to begin to struggle or yell at whoever was manhandling her. Because she saw it. The moment the second half of the 'battle' began, after her Master died. A hiccup escaped her lips, sighting the rage and hate playing across her face in the recording. She thought back, to the fight, to the red haze of that memory...

Oh Force...

She...

"I... no, I didn't...," she whispered in horror.

A whisper, spoken from lips that hovered inches from her ear, sent shivers down her spine, "You did, and it was _magnificent_."

Siri tried to stop watching, tried to look away, but her head was held in an iron grip. "Watch. See the power you harnessed. You called for the Dark Side of the Force, and it answered readily with a strength rarely seen for those who first call upon it, let alone that most fallen Jedi ever get the chance to reach. That little amusing fool Xanatos perhaps held a lead over you before his death, but it wont last for long. You have a natural affinity for the darkness, your potential would have been wasted as a Jedi."

Her face paled, watching how easily she butchered the Dark Jedi, fear rocketing down her spine. "No. No no no, that... that was an accident! I didn't mean..."

"Accident or no," said the voice, letting go of her head, "You dove into the darkness, and while I kept myself and Maul's presences shielded from the other Jedi, I most certainly didn't do the same for yours."

Utter horror roiled through her. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon would have felt it... oh no... no no no! Obi-Wan might have kept it secret, for her, but Master Jinn? He would have reported what he had felt to the council.

Despair overwhelmed her, she knew full well the range of punishments for touching the Dark Side. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she could not deny it, she had deeply drawn on it. Given into her rage and hate. Not even Bruck had gone that deep from what she knew. And what the voice had said... she dearly hoped she hadn't gone as close to as deep as Xanatos. Even if she hadn't...

It left her feeling hollow. "They'll banish me from the order... or imprison me..."

The voice chuckled. "Fortunately for you, they believe you dead."

Siri bowed her head, her breathing growing shaky. It meant there was no hope of anyone coming for her. Even if she was somehow discovered alive... there was still no hope for her...

"Damn him," hissed Siri furiously, "Damn that _beast_. It stole my Master... it stole my future..."

"Good," whispered the voice, "Let your anger _swell_."

Before she could respond, she flinched as the recording reached the scream again. "Gah! Make it stop!"

"I told you, only you can make it stop," said the voice.

She faintly heard the click of a button, and the recording started shrinking in time again, speeding up each showing of her Master's death. Her anger spiked. He was doing this to her on purpose! That... that bastard...

_Scream_

She just...

_Scream_

Wanted it to stop...

_Scream_

Why was he doing this to her?

_Scream_

The Fore swirled and churned around Siri. "Stop it...

_Scream_

"I said stop it!" she yelled.

"Only you can make it stop," repeated the voice once more.

_Scream_

"AAAAAAHHHH!" yelled Siri, throwing a chained hand towards the holoprojector.

The holoprojector bent, cracked, and then exploded as the Force erupted from Siri and ripped it asunder. Siri watched the smoke rise out as light left what little of the screen remained with relief, and then a tint of dark satisfaction before it abruptly fled. It hit her suddenly, what she did, and as Siri stared at the remains she went limp, leaning forward and bowing her head to the ground, a wretched sob escaping her lips. She had done it again, used her anger, used the dark... she knew the lessons, that it only got easier and easier the more someone used the Dark Side... this was only the beginning of an awful path...

All of her dreams and hopes were crashing down around her as reality truly set in. Her Master was dead because of her weakness, she had then disgraced her Master and the entire Jedi Order and used the Dark Side to kill, had... had _fallen_..., everyone thought she was dead, and would condemn her if she wasn't. She knew better than to deny it, other Padawans and initiates _still_ condemned Bruck. Even if she got out of here, she was never going to become a Jedi Master now... all of her life, wasted and lost and thrown away in an instant. It was all over...

She couldn't help it, she cried deeply and bitterly.

The voice spoke with a gentleness, "Ah, my lost little apprentice. Why is it that you weep?"

"I've lost everything," she whispered.

"Have you?" mused the voice, "From my point of view, you've lost nothing worthwhile. The Dark Side can help you gain everything you could ever possibly want."

"The Dark Side has _nothing_ I want," she spat out.

"Doesn't it?" said the voice as a hand slowly raked through her hair.

Siri let out a small gasp as waves of pleasure rocketed down her spine at the touch. She shivered and moaned as her senses were overwhelmed, as a dark, seductive voice whispered into her mind sweet nothings. Power, pleasure, anything she could ever want, if only she gave in, if only she submitted. Then, as suddenly as it came, it withdrew, along with the hand raking possessively through her hair. She couldn't help but whimper and lean her head towards where the touch had fled.

"Good, good," whispered the voice, a chuckle escaping it, "You want it again, don't you?"

A 'yes' caught in her through, and Siri struggled to keep it down.

"All you have to do is kneel at my feet, pledge yourself to me, and call me...," said the voice as it drew closer to her ear, " _ **Master**_."

A flash spiked through her mind, of Master Gallia sitting with her in their shared apartment, laughing at a joke, teaching her, meditating with her. "N... no..."

"You wanted to become a Jedi Master," said the voice, trying a different approach, "But only through me can you achieve a power even greater than any Jedi."

"I don't... want to be... a Dark Jedi," she managed to gasp out.

A hoarse laugh filled the air, and the temperature began to plummet as a dark chill took the air. "Oh my blind little apprentice, how little you see, how little you understand. I am no Dark Jedi."

She yelped as a hand roughly grabbed her head and pulled her up, and the voice whispered into her ear, "I am Sith."

Shock hit her, killing off the lingering sensation's the touch had left on her, and then unbridled fear ripped through her. "N...no, the Sith have been extinct for almost a thousand years!"

The chill in the room deepened and began to seep into her skin, her bones. "Have we? Or have we merely changed? Become subtle, influencing and controlling events right under the nose of the Jedi. Preparing ourselves for our return."

"You're lying!" she yelled.

The voice... the Sith... lifted her fully up and turned her around, in the dark, she could see deep malevolent glowing yellow eyes, all consuming, staring into her eyes, into her soul. "No, little fallen Jedi, I am not."

She tried to deny the awful truth she could feel in the Force, the howl of the Dark Side ringing through the Force around them. But she couldn't, those sickly yellow eyes, that cackling laughter, that presence so dark and so foul...

She was in the grasp of pure evil itself.

And it wanted her.

"I... I will never turn to the Dark Side!" she tried to say bravely, but only managed to squeak out, growing more and more terrified by the second. Force it was so cold...

"You forget, you already have," mocked the Sith, "As Master Yoda says, 'once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny'. The only path left for you now is down into darkness. The only question is will you walk it willingly, or shall I have to drag you along?"

"I... won't become a Sith...," she said far to weakly and fearfully to sound convincing.

"It is inevitable," said the Sith with a conviction that scared Siri to the depths of her soul, "It is your destiny."

She tried to deny it, but nothing came out of her mouth.

"Now, will you kneel? Will you pledge yourself to me and my teachings?" questioned the Sith.

She shook uncontrollably as darkness began to overwhelm every sense she had. The blackness of the unlit room turned into an even darker void, consuming everything as it crawled to her. It latched onto her body, her mind, her soul, and began to invade...

And then, in the back of her mind, flashed a light, and a voice from a boy she loved, carried along a whisper of the Force. _"I won't forget you, I promise..."_

Siri suckered in a breath, latched onto that light, drew all of the strength she could from it and her inner will, and beat back the darkness. "I will _**never** _ join you!"

There was silence for a moment, before an indifferent, "Pity," sounded out, "I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way."

She was yanked upwards, and then slammed face first into the hard floor, breaking her nose and gushing blood out of it. She yelped in pain, and then began screaming as the room lit up with blue electricity and mad laughter. Just before she could pass out to the pain, it stopped. She was left there gasping in agony for a moment. She cried out when a boot embedded itself into her stomach, kicking her backwards as far as the chains would let her.

"I suppose I'll give you time to think on it," mused the Sith, "Resist as long as you are able, but in the end, for all your struggles, you will be _**mine**_."

With that, the Sith left, the slamming of a door echoing through the room.

Siri laid there on the floor, curled into a ball, and wept. "Obi-Wan... please... help me..."

But in the dark, alone in that cell, there was no answer...


	3. Depravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Psychological, Physical, and Force torture of an adolescent.

Siri awoke to utter darkness and let out a soft groan of pain. Force, she ached all over. She laid there, for a time, breathing in and out, an odd wheeze coming out of her broken nose, before slowly gathering her strength. She had to get out of here. Fallen or not, she was **_not_ ** a Sith, nor wanted to be one. Her loyalty was to the Jedi Order, and if they would not bear her anymore, then she at least wanted Obi-Wan to survive. The Sith wanted nothing but the destruction of the Jedi Order and to rule the galaxy. That included Obi-Wan, so she had to warn them, if only for his sake...

She frown briefly, at how so easily she dismissed the entire order for someone she favored. She shook her head and slowly stood up, grabbed the chain, fueled her muscles with the Force, trying to reach for the light instead of the dark, and yanked as hard as she could...

...and cried out in pain when the chain and the floor won and she dislocated her shoulder. "Kriffing hell!"

She bit her lip to stifle any further cries of pain. She began to reach out with her good arm in the darkness and scuffle around, searching for a wall hopefully in range of her chains. She found it and braced herself, feeling for the socket and the bone with the Force and positioning herself before ramming her shoulder into the wall to shove the bone back in place. She hissed in pain, tears streaming down her face, before sitting down on the floor.

"Well that was a piss ass attempt," she spat out at herself angrily.

She abruptly shook her head. "No, no anger! It's... it's what he wants, what the dark wants."

She took a deep breath, tried her best to calm herself, and attempted to meditate. Only... something was wrong. She couldn't find that inner peace she needed to begin. There were no threads of harmony and serenity she could draw upon to pull herself into the soothing embrace of the Force. Distress and alarm ran through her, making her lose any semblance of calm. Was she just not balanced enough with what was happening to her? Or was this what it meant to fall? To lose the ability to call on the Force as she used to?

She tried again, but could not empty her mind, and what came to her was nothing peaceful. Flashes of lightning, of the Sith's laughter. Her Master's death, burned into her memory in a way she'd never forget. The look on her face in the holorecording, that anger and hate tainting her features. Thoughts drifted to the Jedi Order, on how they would name her fallen, strike her out from the records as a Jedi Padawan. How the other Padawans and initiates would spit her name with distaste. How her friends would either have to distance themselves from her name, or suffer ridicule, if they didn't join in to begin with.

Dread roiled her stomach. Bant Eerin, Garen Muln, Quinlan Vos... would they abandon her? Curse her as some dark heathen?

Would Obi-Wan?

Her stomach knotted, and she cursed herself as tears started streaming down her face once more.

She sat there, in brooding misery for some time, until her stomach growled at her. She shook her head and glanced around, pressing her senses along the room she was in. No food or water had been left for her, and from what she could tell, the Sith wasn't nearby. She put her senses passed the room, until they abruptly came across a block. Her eyebrows furrowed as she poked and prodded it with the Force. It was some kind of Force Shielding, but... she had never felt anything like it before, not to mention...

She poked in every direction, and was astounded to find the shielding covered the entire building she was in. No one could sense in, no one could sense out. Nothing that happened in here would carry out in the Force. How in the world did the Sith create such a shield?

It left her a bit numb, to realize just how alone she truly was. No one was coming for her. Didn't know where she was, couldn't know where she was, and even if they did, they wouldn't care about some fallen padawan...

Depression kicked in, and she slowly curled up into a ball on the floor. She laid there for what felt like hours, until the inaction eventually took her to a fitful sleep...

* * *

Siri blinked a few times and sat up, a large growl emanating from her stomach, and a tightness to her dry throat. She licked her dry lips and took in a breath, slowly letting it out. As much as she hated to...

"Hello?" she called out.

There was no reply. If the Sith was there, he wasn't saying anything.

She sighed and pushed herself over to the wall, pressing her back up to it, bringing her knees up, and wrapping her arms around them. She sat there for what felt like hours, brooding, until sleep took her again...

* * *

Again and again, she woke and fell asleep, nothing but isolation and utter darkness greeting her. It grated and unnerved her. How long was the Sith going to keep her down here? Force dammit she was hungry and thirsty! Not to mention kriffing bored out of her mind. Worse though... she hated being left down here with nothing but her fears and guilt to give her company. She dreaded thinking of the Jedi Order and her friends, what they must think of her...

She rubbed her throat and sighed.

"Are you thirsty, my little fallen Jedi?" came the raspy voice of the Sith.

Siri started a little, her heart kickstarting fearfully, before she forced as much of a calm over her as she could. "What's it to you?"

"It's a simple yes or no question," said the Sith, "Are you, or are you not, thirsty?"

When she gave no response, there was a very maliciously slow and cruel sound of a water bottle being unscrewed, the loud smacking of lips, followed by the gulping of water. "Ah... how refreshing. Tell me my little fallen Jedi, do you want this water?"

Siri ground her teeth, humiliation roaring in her head. She knew what kind of game he was playing. As a Jedi, they had been taught and prepared for situations where they may be taken captive. She was so thirsty though...

She beat down her pride. She needed to stay strong to find a way out. If she weakened to hunger and dehydration, that would never happen. "Yes."

"Then beg," mocked the Sith, "Prostrate yourself before me and beg for water."

Furious indignation ripped through her. "Like hell I will!"

"Pity," mused the Sith, "Fortunately for you, I am not without _mercy_. I will... give... you water."

Siri's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought you said you didn't believe in mercy."

There was a hoarse and gleeful laugh. "You are correct."

Siri yelped as water splashed her, followed by the water bottle conking her upside the head. She was about to yell at the Sith before the room lit up with blue electricity. She had a split second to realize, before it hit, that this was going to hurt so much more when she was wet. She screamed in agony as the lightning rolled over her and took her to the ground, writhing in pain.

The lightning faded, and the Sith's mocking voice sounded out, "This stops when you choose it to, my little fallen Jedi. All you have to do is pledge yourself to me and my teachings."

"Never," she managed to spit out between gasps of pain.

"Never is a very long time my little fallen Jedi," mused the Sith before his hands began to cackle with lightning and the torture began again...

* * *

When Siri awoke next, she felt so brittle. Moving even an inch sent spikes of pain lacing through her body. She couldn't help but flinch when the scraping of metal hit her ears. It took her a second to recognize the sound, of eating utensils hitting one another. She realized there was a faint light in the cell. On the other end, sitting at a table preparing to eat, was the Sith.

"Ah good, you're awake, you've been out for some time," said the Sith, "Tell me, are you hungry?"

She didn't get a chance to deny it before her loud stomach betrayed her.

"Do you want to eat?" asked the Sith.

"I will not beg," she spat out.

"Ah, but you won't have to," said the Sith, "I've decided we can start small. I will allow you one meal, for a price."

She ground her teeth. "What is it?"

"The Jedi may have cast you out, but I still feel your lingering loyalty for them," said the Sith with a sigh, as if she were an impudent foolish child, "Renounce them."

"No," said Siri, turning her head away from the food.

"Tsk, such defiance," mused the Sith before he began to eat, slowly, savoring each bite.

"Perhaps another price then," said the Sith, after finishing half his plate, "Every time you've tried to meditate, or use the Force, you try to shy away from the Dark Side. I will allow you half a meal, if you use it again."

"No," she said, "I'm not stupid. I know my lessons, it's like an addiction. The more you use it, the easier it gets, the more you want to use it."

She could practically feel him sneering at her. "Suit yourself then my little fallen Jedi."

For an agonizing hour, the Sith took his time eating, and her stomach spent the entire time protesting and screaming at her. To be so hungry though... when was the last time she ate? How long...

"How long have I been here?" she rasped out.

The Sith paid her no heed as he began to clean up, wiping his face slowly with a napkin and collecting his plate and utensils. Siri grumbled under her breath and tried to think. She had no idea she had initially been out for before she was brought here. She had spent a lot of time alone or sleeping after the first 'session'. From his attempt to goad her with water to now with food, he had implied she had been out for awhile.

"A week?" she guessed, "Two?"

The Sith did not answer, instead, he merely stood, strode to the door, opened it, flicked off the light, and locked her into darkness again.

Siri sighed heavily and curled up on the floor, trying to stifle a groan of hunger, of pain. Force she wished she could meditate, or at least send herself into a healing trance.

She wasn't stupid. There was only so long a human body could live without food and water. Combined with his damned lightning, she was certain she'd already be dead if she wasn't a Jedi... or well... had Jedi training. The Force naturally strengthened her and helped her to survive such conditions, even in this odd state of fallen-but-denying-it that she was in that made it hard to draw properly on it.

She licked her lips as her stomach ached again, the lingering smell of food assaulting her nose. She took a shaking breath, tapping into the Force, and pushed it through her body to try and help actively sustain herself. It wasn't going to last for long, she knew that, and it was using strength she could be using to try to escape to instead try to survive...

Escape...

She scoffed. She hadn't gotten out of these chains, let alone out of the room. Who knows what else the Sith would have between her and freedom. She wasn't going to be able to escape and she knew it. A Jedi would have held onto hope, held onto iron determination and steadfast faith in the light, and if need be, face death head-on without fear.

But she wasn't a Jedi anymore. And that was in far more than just name. She remembered telling Obi-Wan, when they were on that crashing ship, that she wasn't afraid to die.

She was afraid now.

She could feel it, like a black ichor, infecting and spreading through her body. She feared the Sith's return, she feared his lightning, she feared being isolated like this for the rest of her life however short or long it may be, she feared starving to death. She feared that even if she somehow got out of here, all she found find outside was rejection or imprisonment.

Most of all...

She feared herself. She feared the choice she was going to have to make, no matter how long she stalled and delayed. It was a simple decision, with awful implications...

Convert or die.

It was becoming so easy for negative emotions and fears to leak through what little control she had left. She knew it, could recognize when she second guessed earlier bleak thoughts. But it didn't help to recognize the problem when it only kept getting worse...

Because the truth of the matter was...

She didn't want to die, and she didn't see any other way out of this but to sell her soul.

She buried her head into her stomach and sobbed quietly to herself until sleep took her again...

* * *

Siri woke up screaming as lightning washed over her. "My time is not dependent on your sleep schedule my little fallen Jedi."

Siri blearily focused on the Sith, her agonized and parch throat croaking out. "What... do you want..."

"To give you a drink of course," said the Sith, "After all, one will die of dehydration before starvation, and I'm not done with you yet."

Finally...

She looked away from the shadowy silhouette, not wanting to seem eager, but paused when she heard something being dragged across the floor, along with the sloshing of water. What was...

She barely had time to yelp before the Sith grabbed the back of her head and dunked it into a large bucket of water. "Drink up my little fallen Jedi."

Siri panicked as the Sith held her head underwater, struggling and trying to pry his hand off.

He pulled her head up and she gasped for breath. "Am I not merciful? Here, have another drink."

"N...," she began, but couldn't finish before he shoved her head underwater again. She began to flail. Clawing at the hand, clawing at his robe, clawing at the bucket to tip it over. Her lungs began to burn with the lack of air as water splashed from the bucket with her struggles.

"That's rather rude my little fallen Jedi, to waste the water I so graciously brought you," scolded the Sith, pulling her head back out once more.

Siri coughed and gasped for breath, and hoarsed out, "S-stop!"

"Tsk, you hardly sound like you drank anything, I must insist for your own sake," said the Sith before a dark chuckle escaped his lips, "Drink again."

She barely got out a panicked sob before he held her underwater again, this time pressing her face straight to the bottom and grinding it in. Siri bucked and kicked and scratched as hard as she could when her lungs once again began to burn. She started losing focus, and her struggles began to weaken. Thoughts began to slow and fade...

Was this... how she died...?

The Sith ripped her out of the bucket and threw her to the floor. "There, that should be enough."

Siri cried out when the Sith dumped the bucket on her, drenching her. "And a bath while you're at it."

"I'll leave you to swell on my generosity, and with the knowledge that it will only grow the longer you keep me waiting," warned the Sith.

With that, the Sith left, leaving Siri gasping for breath and shivering in her cold, drenched clothes. The warning had been heard, it was only going to get worse from here on in. She silently cursed herself when she realized, as awful as it was, that she hadn't bothered to really try and drink when she had been being drowned. Siri took in a raspy breath, sucked in her pride, buried her humiliation, and placed her lips against the floor, trying to suck up the water on it.

When she 'drank' enough, she curled up into a ball once more and shivered, the room had already been cold, drenched clothes was going to make this so much worse...

* * *

Day in, and day out, or as long as she could figure, the Sith kept up his cruel game. Flaunting water and food before her. Or torturing her with brief burst of lighting, or physical abuse. She bore it out as well as she could. It didn't help that she had the damn sniffles on top of it. Force, she hadn't been sick in years...

She laid there in darkness, in seething silence. Anger was getting harder and harder to suppress. Each time that Sith walked into the cell, it spiked, the beginnings of hatred burrowing deeper and deeper into her mind. It was hard to resist, she almost didn't want to anymore. She felt the desire each time he came for her, to unleash her rage on him. To kill him, rip out his throat...

This time was no different.

"Ah, you're awake, good," said the Sith as he walked in, "It's time we had a little _chat_."

The Force swirled and whispered warnings into her ear. _Something was about to change..._

Siri uncurled and sat up, glaring towards the Sith's voice.

"Tsk, and already I see your unwillingness to co-operate, how unfortunate," mused the Sith.

"What do you want from me?" she said bitterly.

"I've already told you," said the Sith, an annoyed sigh escaping his lips, "I want you to kneel before me and pledge yourself to my teachings. It's inevitable, the longer you pointlessly resist, the more you will suffer, and I am here to enlighten you on _how_."

"Do your worst," she spat.

"My worst?" mused the Sith, "If you've fooled yourself into believing that a little tap of lightning is the worst I can do, then you are mistaken, about a _great_ , _many_ , _things_."

She yelped when he grabbed her hair and roughly pulled her close, whispering into her ear. "Tomorrow, I will stop restraining the punishment for your defiance. You will be whipped, electrocuted, and beaten daily along with whatever creative punishments I come up with."

She gulped, but didn't respond, trying to steel herself.

The Sith continued, "The next day, along with the physical punishment, I will begin breaking your mental shields and assaulting your mind, leaving you raw, never allowed to recover."

Siri's eyes went wide.

A dark chuckle echoed through the room. "The following day, I will show you the effects of Sith Sorcery firsthand. You will see nightmarish mirages beyond your darkest fears. Your dreams will become hell rather than an escape from the torment your every waking moment will become."

Siri trembled as he continued. "Then, because you are so unfortunate as to have been born a female, " he spat with distaste, "I will start loaning you to a whorehouse."

Siri stared at the Sith's outline in shock. "Y-you wouldn't..."

"I'm a Sith," he replied, "Of course I would."

She went silent in mute horror.

"If all of that fails to change your mind, I will start tracking down your old friends within the Jedi order, abduct them, bring them before you, and make you watch me kill them," he threatened.

Siri froze up, her eyes going wide. "You..."

_He'd kill Obi-Wan..._

Rage and hate welled up in her, spiking uncontrollably as a cold darkness seeped out of her, challenging the oppressive presence of the Sith. " _You wont touch them._ "

A small, pleasured gasp escaped the Sith's lips. "Ahhh... there it is, that darkness I so hunger for."

Siri thrust a hand at him with a furious cry, ripples of the Force burst from her hand. To no effect, the Sith merely waved his hand and banished the Force attack as if it were an unpleasant breeze.

"Good, good," said the Sith greedily, "Give into your anger my little fallen Jedi. But know this..."

He gripped her head, hard. "You are no match for me. You are to _weak_ and _untrained_. If I so chose to kill those who matter to you, you cannot stop me."

He threw her to the floor. "I'll give you one last night to think on it. If come morning, you do not pledge yourself to me, it will begin."

He left her there, shaking with rage. Slowly though, minute by minute, the rage gave into despair and fear. Physical and mental torture, being raped, her friends slaughtered... there wasn't a damn thing she could do about what was to come... he was right, she was to weak... she had never felt so furiously helpless in her life...

"I hate him," she hissed, "I hate him so much."

The other things, as much as she dreaded them, didn't matter to her as much as what would happen to those in the temple. If it came down to her soul or her friends, she knew which she would sacrifice. The Sith had won, and he knew it, the moment she had reacted, shown a weakness, he had found his victory. Damn him... damn him... he might have won this... but she'd have the last laugh in the end... she swore it...

* * *

Siri sat there silently as the Sith strode into the cell, a faint light from the hallway spilling around his dark form. "Well? What is your decision my little fallen Jedi?"

Siri wobbly rose to her feet, her weakened strength barely carrying her to the ends of her chains before she knelt before him, bowed her head, and gritted out through clenched teeth. "I pledge myself to your teachings."

_Until I'm strong enough to kill you..._

"Ah...," said the Sith, delight in his voice, "I knew you would see things my way, my young apprentice. Now come, it's time to begin your... conditioning. You will find the training of a Sith to be... more rigorous than that of a Jedi."

She stared at him as he turned to go. "I'm still chained."

"Then break them," answered the Sith, "You tried before, reaching for that pitiful light. Harness your rage and hate, and no chain will bind you."

She stared down at her hands silently, eyebrows furrowed.

"Think of your weakness, think of your former Masters' death, and yes," said the Sith with a chuckle, "Think of how much you hate me. Use it."

She flexed her hands, the last hints of uncertainty still going through her mind at her choice. If she did this and walked out that door with him, there was no going back...

" ** _Do it_** ," snapped the Sith.

Siri let the thought go and narrowed her eyes, raising her head to glare at him. She stopped trying to struggle against and repress her darker feelings. For the first time she unleashed them go, fed off them willingly, rather than as a response. She shivered and let out a soft moan as raw power funneled down her body. It was like she had never been starved or tortured to begin with. She felt strong, invincible...

With a roar she yanked as hard as she could, and snapped the chain like it was a twig. The other followed a moment later followed by her leg chains. She stared down at the broken chains with a hint of silent disbelief. It had been so easy...

"Glorious, isn't it?" said the Sith.

She couldn't help it, she answered, "Yes..."

"Yes what, my apprentice?" said the Sith in a warning tone.

She glared at him. "Yes..."

She ground her teeth. "... _Master_."

The Sith sneered at her defiant tone, but didn't address it otherwise. "Come."

Siri took a few steps to the doorway and placed a hand on it. She paused briefly, to look back into the cell, and then down at a curling hand. She could feel the Dark Side pulsing through her, but it wasn't as she thought it would be, taught it would be, to willingly call to it. There was nothing sickly or evil to her, no taint, no willingness to just go off and 'do evil' and start butchering innocents. It was just raw power, to do whatever she wanted however she wanted with no overbearing Jedi Master to harp about rules or regulations or emotions... maybe the Jedi were wrong... or intentionally holding them all back from this power...

The Sith said she had a lot of potential...

A wicked grin spread across her face. She'd achieve it She'd do whatever it took, delve down into darkness as deep as she had to, learn everything he had to offer, and when she was ready, she would kill the Sith. He'd regret the day he chose her.

She swore he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first willing steps have been taken, so she says 'just' to kill the Sith, but we know better, we really do. Now the fall truly begins...


	4. Into the Dark (Part One)

The Sith led her into into a darkened round room with faint eerie candlelight illuminating it. "Kneel at the center."

Siri did so and waited as the Sith began to circle her.

**_"Peace is a lie, there is only passion."_ **

Siri let out a small gasp as the words resonated with such power, echoing through the room.

_**"Through passion, I gain strength."** _

Siri's throat went dry, and a dark shiver ran down her spine.

_**"Through strength, I gain power."** _

Siri shook off the shiver and focused, noting the way the Force _trembled_ as the Sith spoke.

_**"Through power, I gain victory."** _

The power to overcome any odds...

_**"Through victory, my chains are broken."** _

Siri's eyebrows furrowed. Chains... he had mentioned breaking chains before, not to mention having her break her own to leave the room...

_**"The Force shall free me."** _

The Sith stopped walking behind her. "It is the Sith Code. Tell me, what thoughts does it put into your head?"

Siri frowned, while she figured the Sith must have had their own, she had never heard it before. Unlike the Jedi Code that rang with peace and tranquility, this was _passion_ and _power_.

"The chains earlier were supposed to be symbolic, weren't they?" she asked.

She shivered and let an unwilling moan escape her lips as the Sith's hand raked possessively through her hair, dark approval pulsing through the Force into her at contact. "You are correct. Breaking one's chains, achieving ultimate power and freedom no matter the cost, these are the covenants the Sith hold with the Dark Side. But be warned, it will challenge us constantly, seek to influence and bend us to it's will. That is why to be a master of the Dark Side, you must dominate it."

The thought was so alien compared to the Jedi's teachings, abhorrent even. "Dominate the Force?"

"The Jedi," spat the Sith, "Submit to the Force. They let it own and direct them, let it enslave them. The Sith direct their own fate."

"The Jedi trust in the Force to guide and protect them...," began Siri.

"And that trust is misplaced and betrayed, again and again," countered the Sith, gripping her hair tightly, leaning down to whisper, "Or do you deny that the Force led your former Master to her death and you to me?"

Siri recoiled. "That's...! That's not true!"

She weakened. "It's not..."

"It is," said the Sith, letting go of her hair, "And you know it. You simply refuse out of stubbornness."

He began to circle her again. "You will find, my young apprentice, that a great many of the Jedi's foolish teachings come at the price of free will, and personal strength. They deny you a sense of self, to always belong to the Jedi Order and the Republic, like a slave. You are denied personal possessions, nothing and nowhere to call truly _your_ own, except of course the _Jedi_ Temple. They deny you pride and glory in your achievements, always the recognition goes to the Jedi as you are forced to downplay your own worth. Ambition, a trait common to all races, something that has fueled countless civilizations, leaders, people, evolution itself, is suppressed..."

Siri pursed her lips. On some level, she did agree, that she always felt shoved and molded into the perfect little Jedi, on the other hand, she had been raised a Jedi, and even if she had fallen, even if she did agree to learn at the foot of a Sith in order to kill him, she would not suffer such a baseless attack on _her_ Order! "Ambition leads to..."

"To what? Greed? Envy? Jealousy?" mused the Sith before scoffing, "True enough I suppose."

Siri couldn't help but gawk about how readily he admitted to it. She was under the impression he had been trying to turn her around to his way of thinking.

"But you ignore the other end of ambition. How would anyone have reached the stars if it were not for ambition? What about medical advances and the ambition of doctors? Engineers and scientists? Civilization does not advance without ambition, it stagnates," Of course then he went and did it anyway.

Siri opened her mouth in frustration, trying to counter, but nothing came out. She... couldn't find an argument that wasn't just rehashing what he had admitted to. There was good and bad to ambition... she could grudgingly admit it.

"There are two sides to every coin my apprentice," said the Sith, pausing his circling in-front of her, "For every decision, every action, there are 'rights' and 'wrongs' to it. Tell me, you believe killing is wrong, do you not?"

_Not if you're the one being murdered..._

"Yes," she said evenly.

"But consider this scenario: There is a terrorist with a rocket launcher aiming at a airbus full of children," said the Sith before slowly turning his yellow eyes to bore into Siri, "What do you do?"

"Stop him of course," said Siri.

"How?" questioned the Sith.

"Rip the launcher out of his hands with the Force or cut it in half," she said.

"Both are risky maneuvers," pointed out the Sith, "Why not _just_ kill him and eliminate the risk? There's no guarantee the terrorist wouldn't get off a shot before you took the weapon, and slicing it in half may lead to a premature detonation and kill you. Would you truly be willing to risk the children's lives?"

Siri gave him an unimpressed look. "That question coming from a Sith leaves a lot to be desired considering you'd probably get a laugh out of the airbus blowing up."

The Sith stared at her silently for a minute, and Siri was half expecting lightning to start spraying out of his fingertips, instead, he let out a soft laugh. "You amuse me apprentice, you truly do. It would have been a shame had you forced me to break your mind, will, and spirit, I'd lose out on half the entertainment in training you."

Siri scowled at him. "Thanks."

The Sith sneered at her. "You are most welcome. Now, as for your baseless accusation. You may be surprised to find that you are quite wrong."

Oh boy, this ought to be good, how was he going to twist his words to say he would care if the children died?

"I would not honestly care if the airbus exploded," confessed the Sith, stumping Siri, "But I would only take delight in it if that was my goal, if there was a reason and purpose behind it."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"A Sith kills, and kills readily," admitted the Sith, "However, it is with purpose. Even the most basic reason, to kill to strengthen our connection to the Dark Side or fuel ourselves with power, is a purpose. Simply killing someone 'for the hell of it', is pointless and a waste. Even worse, it could backfire on us."

Siri's eyebrows furrowed.

"To use the earlier example, consider if I needed to move undetected, and an airbus was attacked, security would ramp up everywhere, thus forcing me to take extra precautions and waste time or risk exposure," explained the Sith, "Even worse, if I randomly went out 'slaughtering people' as the Jedi seem to think Sith were born to do, it would risk revealing myself, either through unseen witnesses, or through investigation. Each action has consequences, each kill must have a reason behind it."

The Sith tilted his head in thought before adding in as an afterthought, "Not to mention we could be killing off a potential resource years down the line I suppose. Wanton slaughter hasn't been a common thing for the Sith in over a thousand years. We have changed, we have evolved."

Siri stared at him silently, absorbing the information. It was awful, yes, just... not as baseless as she had been taught of the ancient Sith.

"Now, to return to the example," said the Sith, drawing back her attention, "If you had to choose between the lives of those on the airbus, or the terrorist's, whom would you choose?"

"I'd choose the airbus of course," she said, "I'd try to see if I could take the attacker alive, but if not, I would be prepared to kill him. All Jedi would."

The Sith's lips curled up into a sneer. "Even if taking the chance to try to spare the terrorist's life risked the destruction of the airbus?"

Siri hesitated for a second. "Like I said... if there was no other way, I'd kill him."

"You are missing the point," spat the Sith, "It is an unnecessary risk. It takes a split second to pull the trigger, and that split second you spent assessing the situation and then trying to figure a way to take him alive could give him that chance. There must be no hesitation on doing what needs to be done."

He drew closer, grabbing her hair and pulling her roughly up, a hiss escaping Siri's lips as he whispered into her ear, "Because that moment of hesitation can kill you."

He let go and fall back onto her knees, his voice ringing in disappointment. "You have so much to learn my apprentice, and so much to unlearn."

"Get up," he spat.

Siri did so.

"Follow," he ordered.

She followed behind him silently down a darkened hall and into a infirmary with a floating med-droid waiting for them. The Sith motioned to an examination table, and Siri hesitatingly laid down on it.

"My time with you is not infinite, you will remain here and recover your strength from your... initiation period," said the Sith tactfully.

Siri scowled at him. "I feel fine."

The Sith scoffed. "Coming from an acolyte still riding the high of their first willing taste of the Dark Side? The moment it fades, you will crash."

Siri glared at him, but decided not to say anything.

The med droid floated over and started hooking up an IV and nutrient drip into her as the Sith continued, "For now you will rest, when you wake, you will study."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Study?"

"You have much to learn about the Sith; our language, our history, our purpose," said the Sith, "You will find new clothing, and your text to read, waiting for you upon awakening. Your first task will be to learn our language. By the end of the week, I expect you to be able to recite the Sith Code in Sith."

"And where will you be?" she cautiously asked.

The Sith eyed her, bemused. "Out."

Siri pursed her lips tightly, but didn't respond to the look.

The Sith turned to go before pausing. "As a warning. If you attempt to leave the building, it, and the entire sector it's in, is rigged to explode."

Siri immediately scowled.

"You will not be leaving until _**I** _ decide you may," said the Sith possessively, "Get used to it."

The Sith moved to the door and paused one last time. "Dwell, my apprentice, on what we have discussed, and what you know of the Sith from your... 'Jedi history'. When I return, we will discuss more on where you have been... misled. You will come to find that many of the Jedi's perceptions of the Sith overemphasize or misrepresent what we are."

"Right," she drawled, "I'm sure Sith are all butterflies and rainbows."

She yelped when the Sith waved a hand and unleashed a small bolt of electricity at her. "Your tongue is amusing only up until a point my apprentice, be mindful of when you choose to use it."

With that, the Sith left. Siri laid there for a time, stewing and fuming at the Sith and the situation she was stuck in until her frustration and anger were spent. Almost immediately the room spun and blurred.

"Oh...," she murmured faintly, "He was right... I feel like crap..."

She had a few more seconds before her head lolled to the side and she passed out.

* * *

Sidious scoffed, slowly shaking his head at the sight as he watched his apprentice pass out down below through the tinted observational glass.

"Agreed," came the scornful voice of his master, Darth Plagueis as he stepped out of the shadows, "This fallen Jedi padawan is supposed to replace the tool you were going to train? I hold my doubts."

Sidious said nothing.

"I'm still baffled as to how she bested Maul," spat out Plagueis, "All those years waiting and preparing for him, only for him to be thrown away before he could be of true use."

"He let his arrogance blind him," mused Sidious, "He killed the master, a high council-member even, and then threw away his victory. If he had flat out just killed the Jedi instead of poking, prodding, and driving her into her fall, he would still be alive. He awakened a darkness he could not handle."

Plagueis moved to stand next to him, staring down at the teen, eyes narrowing, senses reaching. "She has _some_ potential, but not enough to have beaten Maul. She seems barely worth the effort."

Sidious did not correct him, he did not want to. It would reveal his hand far to early. "Perhaps, but, it is only fitting for her to replace the tool she broke."

"I suppose, but speaking of breaking," said Plagueis, turning to glare at Sidious, "You did not break her mind and bend her to your will. She will never be loyal, as Maul was raised to be. So why?"

Ah, that was the question, wasn't it? "She amuses me. She is also practice for converting potential future... allies. You did mention that Master Dooku might have future use."

Plagueis nodded, taking the bait ever so carefully dangled, and shifted subjects. "Indeed. After Galidraan his faith in the Jedi has been steadily declining. I feel it may still be some time before he can be of proper... use. I suggest you keep cultivating your acquaintanceship with him."

"Of course," answered Sidious before musing, "It's a shame Master Jinn wasn't killed on the assignment, his death could have proved more useful that Gallia's. It could have driven Dooku fully from the Order."

"Indeed," said Plagueis before cautioning, "But Jinn's death, when it happens, must be handled carefully. If he is to die before the Grand Plan is enacted, it must be because of a 'mistake' or a 'mishandling' of the Jedi Council or the Republic."

Sidious nodded. "Agreed."

There was a small beep of a comlink, causing Plagueis to pull one out of his robe, look at it, and scowl. "The demands for Hego Damask never fade."

Plagueis turned and started to leave, pausing briefly at the door. "Continue it's training, keep me appraised of the tool's progress and when it can be of use."

"As you wish Master," said Sidious, concealing his contempt for the Muun.

With that, Plagueis left.

Sidious turned his gaze back to his sleeping apprentice down below. "Plageuis, you fool. You do not know her potential because you were not there to see it unleashed. You foolishly choose to see only skin deep. The darkness she bears now is merely a harbinger of what lays sleeping underneath."

And how glorious it had been to feel it unleashed, and to feel it again yesterday. She had such potential, he did not think as much as his own, but close enough to be a true threat when it came time for the apprentice to challenge the master in a good three to fives decades or so of proper training.

He frowned. "It would have been such a _waste_ if I had passed up on you and let the Jedi flounder your potential."

For even now that the moment had come and gone, dwelling on it he had come to realize just how narrow the window of opportunity had been with Siri Tachi. From what he had uncovered, she had been a firm Jedi Padawan before her last mission, and most likely would have been after. But something during that small timeframe had deeply shaken her control over herself. He held no doubts that if he hadn't sent Maul, or even if he had waited to collect Siri until later after the Jedi reclaimed her in her fallen state, he would have lost his chance to properly convert her. He could have taken and broken her in later, if the Jedi had ever let her out of the temple again that is, but it wouldn't have been the same.

There was a very key difference between forcing someone into the Dark Side, and someone choosing it willingly. The paltry excuse of torture he had put her through, and she had no true idea of what he was really capable of inflicting on her yet, had been merely to force her to make up her mind and choose. Breaking her and forcing into the Dark Side instead of letting her choose it would never have released her true potential.

If she had refused, he would have killed her rather than waste his time on creating an imperfect replica of Maul. But she hadn't refused, she had submitted, had turned. She had no clue, no idea, the magnitude of what she was to become. To become a true Sith Apprentice, and eventual Dark Lord of the Sith, if she didn't screw it up and get herself killed, was a glory unlike any other.

A glory he planned claiming for himself within the next decade or so.

Though that brought up a point he needed to contemplate. Plagueis was making a very costly mistake with him that Sidious clearly saw, he was teaching him to much. He was running out of uses for his Master. While he could grudgingly admit he didn't think he would become as close to as skilled as Plagueis was with Midiclorian Manipulation, he saw no reason to keep the Muun alive for that reason alone. He would find other ways to live forever, especially without being under the Muun's boot.

It's not to say he was against the Rule of Two, and especially not in the way Plagueis was. If he could circumvent his own death and rule the galaxy forever, he readily would. But if a truly worthy apprentice managed to usurp him, well, they would be **_his_ ** legacy. But they would not gain power in the foolish method Plagueis had allowed him to. No, if they wanted knowledge beyond the basics of the Dark Side and the beginnings of the Sith, they would either earn the lesson, steal the knowledge of it, find it on their own, or secretly observe and learn it from their Master.

He would most certainly **_not_ ** give free access to Sith Holocrons unless she earned the right to them. He was still honestly baffled how Plagueis was so foolish to have done that with him...

A Sith did _**not** _ share power.

He rubbed his chin, staring down at the apprentice. He contemplated ways to train her. He had 'some' practicing in that regard with Maul. Though, much of it had been to prod and condition Maul for the Dark Side along with teaching history in the boy's youth before he had sent Maul off to the Orsis Academy for his assassin training. The fool had died to early to even be inducted into the Sith Order and begin his proper training. Thus, this would be Sidious's first true attempt at training an apprentice. While he would not slowly give her power in the manner Plagueis had given him, some of the Muun's early methods of training might have use. Then again, Sidious knew that he had been a much different person than his apprentice was when they both were taken as apprentices. It was something he would have to think on during the week his presence was required back on Naboo.

He knew he did not want to break her personality, nor her will. Inflame certain traits, plant new ones, and weaken or remove others yes, but break? No. While he could admit that he himself was a masterpiece, more by his own design than Plagueis's, he felt he could have become something more without the breaking and remaking of himself as the Sith he was today. He could faintly remember honestly enjoying racing in his youth, though such a frivolous hobby had long since been stripped from him. It wasn't an honestly major loss, he did not care, but it should have been _his_ choice rather than his Master's.

He shook his head and banished the thought. He turned away from the observational glass and left the room, a dark scowl slowly spreading across his face. Plagueis was correct on one thing though. Maul had been eliminated before he could be of true use, and his new apprentice he doubted would be ready or trusted to be of use for another few years. He did not imagine fully converting her would be done anytime soon. Turning her away from the Jedi's teachings? He had already begun. Making her truly dark rather than just fallen? She was on her way already. But making her embrace the Sith? That would take years to properly do.

He doubted he would allow her unsupervised out of this complex for two or three years, minimum. From the reports he had received from the Orsis Academy, Maul on the other hand would have been ready as an assassin in a few months after the Gora. He had even planned on having Maul go back and wipe out the Academy after a few years on the field to tidy up loose ends. Now Sidious would either have to do that himself, risk keeping it alive, or send his apprentice after it in the future. He did not have years to wait converting Tachi, and then another five or so ontop of it for her to go through the academy herself.

Maul's early death was a setback, for a huge potential future gain. It made the immediate a problem, there were many upcoming or unknown issues and tasks he could have used Maul for that he would either have to do himself, hire someone to do, or pass up on. But he was patient. His apprentice would have great use in the future, and how he would enjoy using her to his full advantage. That was however yet to come.

For now, his apprentice's conversion had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using Wookieepedia to try and make up for books I lack to draw information from (which is all V_V). Some of the timeline information I have for Maul's training at Orsis seems a bit confusing/conflicting (Such as the Massacre at Orsis being timed as 39 BBY or 37 BBY depending on what page you read and not even mentioned on Maul's legends page), so I went with what time was more convenient for the story.
> 
> Just as an FYI incase I write something that ya'll have knowledge of that seems off.


	5. Into the Dark (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I'm using an online Sith language translator, so if it's wrong, sue them not me. ^_^ (And if you have a really good translator, let me know)

Siri awoke to a beeping sound, and nearly jumped when she registered light above her eyes, it took her a moment to remember. "Oh right, out of the cell."

And starting her training as the Sith's apprentice. "...joy..."

She sighed and sat up, stretching briefly. Her stomach rumbled at her almost immediately. The IV and nutrient drip helped overnight, but didn't fix the lack of food.

The med droid from last night floated over and spoke in a baritone voice. "Master Sidious has left you a change of clothes and a book for your studies. You will shower, and change. You will be brought food. Afterwords you are to study. If your focus wanes, there is a training room you may use. This process will repeat until the Master returns."

Siri's eyebrows furrowed. Sidious...? Oh... was that the Sith's name? She couldn't honestly remember if he had told her or not.

"Do you understand?" questioned the droid.

Siri nodded. "Yeah, sure"

She was more than ready to change. Her current clothes were a bit... torched... from all the lightning, not to mention not being changed out of or washed for however long she was in that cell for. On that note, showering would be nice to...

...and then the beginnings of her good mood soured the moment the droid handed her the clothes. "This?"

"Shower, change, eat, study," said the droid, either not recognizing or not caring about her tone.

She scowled and held up the pitch black clothing. "Great..."

She followed the droid out of the room and down a hall to another room. "This will be your quarters."

"And I thought a Jedi's quarters were barren," she murmured, glancing around at the single bed, a connected bathroom, a desk, and a single dresser filled with, lo and behold, more pitch black clothes.

Siri had half expected it to be a sonic shower, she was thankful it turned out to be water. She took her time showering, enjoying the sensation of warm water on her skin. She finished only when the rumbling of her stomach forced her to leave. She grudgingly put on the new clothes and looked at herself in the mirror.

Her face fell on just how dark it made her look. No Jedi would wear something like this...

Then her anger grew at the sight of her depressed face and she glared at herself. "Oh get over it Siri! It's just... it's just a piece of clothing, it means nothing!"

"It doesn't... mean anything," she whispered quietly, her rage fading, as she turned away from the mirror sullenly.

When she exited her room, the med droid was gone, but there was a plate of food along, a glass of water, and a thick black and red covered book waiting on her desk. She couldn't help but shiver as she drew near to it. She could feel the Dark Side imbued into the object. It whispered to her, called to her, beckoned for her touch. She had willingly used the dark side, but that wasn't close to enough to stop a chill from running down her spine as she sat down at the desk in front of the book.

"I... I shouldn't be reading this," she whispered fearfully to herself as she shakily stretched a hand to touch the cover, fingers brushing blood red hieroglyphs.

She suckered in a breath at the touch, feeling dark energy enter into her hands, pleasure starting to spread, encouraging and begging for her to open it. She pushed aside the food and slowly opened the cover and came to the first page... which was full of flimsiplast with scribbles and notes all over them. What struck her first, before even really reading any of them, was the vast amount of different handwriting as she began to spread the notes around.

"How many... how many Sith was this... passed down through... how many touched it?" she couldn't help but wonder nervously.

She began glancing over the notes, translations, meanings, and pronunciations for different hieroglyphs. Her throat felt dry, and her nerves fried, as her eyes washed over differing dark symbols. Yet... at the same time... deep down, she felt an odd eagerness. This was something no Jedi Padawan, heck, she doubted most Knights or Masters would ever learn how to decipher this dark language. It was forbidden knowledge, and that, was enticing.

She poured over the notes until she had a loose alphabet in her mind. She glanced at the first line of the book and attempted to sound it out.

"K... kia... Ed... ed... Edoui... ku... kuris... Hyal... T...tave Za... Zar... chas... Khu... trai iv... Tave... Tsis...," she stuttered.

She wiggled her nose in irritation, it was hard to sound it out. She loosely translated the line she was trying to read as 'To those who crave the ancient language of the Sith'.

She rubbed her forehead and sighed despite her growing eagerness. "This is going to be a long process..."

* * *

A few hours later, Siri managed to drag herself out of the book and set it down. She leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling silently. She could hardly close her eyes without blood red or black symbols burning through her eyelids. She opened her eyes and stared down at the book, the table, and then at the plate of food that had definitely gone cold by now. She scowled to herself, tempting book aside, cold food sucked. Should have ate it earlier. Ah well...  


She forced herself to eat it before pushing away from the table. It hadn't been a lot, but she distinctly recalled training as an early padawan that if you had been starved for awhile, eating large amounts of food was dangerous. Couldn't remember why, but she knew it was a piece of information she shouldn't forget. She took the plate down the hall and to back to the infirmary, looking for the med droid.

"Umm, where do I drop off dishes?" she asked.

It might be the house of a Sith, but even she had some basic manners she wouldn't throw away out of spite.

The droid floated over, grabbed the plate and glass, and made for the door without a word.

"Someones a sunshinny droid," muttered Siri, "Hey, where's the training room?"

"Follow," said the droid,

 The droid a ways down the hall and into a large room. It was vaugly familiar, not in the matter that she had never been here, but that the Jedi Temple had rooms similar to this one. Large barren areas, racks of training weaponry. Though, the lack of training matts to stop someone from breaking or spraining something if they hit the ground hard was a little ruffling. Well, what did she expect? She doubted the Sith went easy. She was curious to note that the training weapons were far more than simple training-sabers. There were swords, staves, and various other melee weapons.

"Guess the Sith prepare themselves to use whatever weapon is available," she mused, walking over to the nearest rack.

She'd consider other weapons later, right now, she just wanted the feel of a lightsaber in her hand, the calm of a kata. She had the most experience with Ataru, and boy did she kick butt with it back during her initiate days. Master Gallia had been trying to drill Form V, Shien specifically rather than Djem So, into her head, but that had been a work in progress. Her face fell briefly at the thought of her dead master, but she shook it off and started up. She scowled to see a red blade ignite from the practice-lightsaber, a soft whimper in the force from it's broken crystal. She wanted to hiss and drop the blade at that. She had heard of this, to 'bleed' a Kyber crystal, it was the only way dark side users could properly use natural crystals. Disgusting...

She sighed and started a basic kata... only to almost find herself face first on the floor after a stumbled acrobatic flip. She blinked a few times, confused, before trying again, paying attention this time. She was unbalanced. The normal focused calm wasn't there. She bristled, could she not even do a normal kata now? Did she have to relearn everything? She bit into her anger, drawing it out again, feeling the Dark Side settled into her limps, power enveloping her. She blew into a viscous kata, the red lightsaber ripping through the air in stabs and slashes. She vaulted overhead of an imaginary enemy, her lightsaber decapitating it in her mind with twirl before she landed.

"There we go," she said, a grin on her face.

She had always enjoyed training, but there was something... different... about it now. She found it thrilling, as much as the masters would rebuke padawans and initiates over it. Fighting was not a 'game', it wasn't supposed to be for fun or for thrills, it was a last resort to end dangerous situations. Now? She didn't have to hide how much she loved the feel of a saber in her hands, watching the lights bleed through the air as she swung it about. She could preform diplomacy, but in combat was where she had always wanted to be, showing the strength of the Jedi, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She didn't know how long she stayed in there, lost in practicing and getting used to using the Dark Side consciously in combat. One minute she was there, the next she came to in the infirmary again.

"Wha...t?" she croaked out.

"You are still recovering," chided the med droid, floating over to her, "Limit your hours spent training until your body can handle it. Half a day is unnecessary at this point."

"Oh... oops," she murmured, wow... she had really lost track of time.

"Return to your room, eat, and sleep," ordered the droid.

"Yes sir," she muttered, getting up tiredly and leaving the room.

She found a small plate of food waiting for her, ate it, eyed the book and scattered notes briefly, before deciding they could wait for another day. She flopped on her bed, and was out like a light...

* * *

The rest of the week passed in similar fashion, minus collapsing out of exhaustion. She wasn't exactly fluent with Sith with only a week's worth of practice... well... considerably less since she spent a lot of time training, but she remembered what Sidious had demanded of her. So when he walked in on her and unmasked his presence in the training room, she was ready and well practiced for those few lines.

"What is the code of the Sith?" demanded Sidious without even a greeting.

Siri paused mid-swing of her lightsaber. "Nwűl buti zo tash, ilsir tik shâsot."

_Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

She could see a a curled, pleased smile slowly start to spread across his lips.

"Pro shâsot, Nu gauti tyűk," she continued.

_Through passion, I gain strength._

She recited the third line, "Pro tyűk, Nu gauti midwan."

_Through strength, I gain power._

The fourth. "Pro midwan, Nu gauti pergaleas."

_Through power, I gain victory._

"Pro pergaleas, nuyak itsu buti kots," she continued.

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

"Akuyi sekleti won nun," she finished.

_The Force shall free me._

Sidious slowly nodded. "Your pronunciations requires work, but, you take to the Sith tongue quite well. I am pleased you decided to curb your foolish defiance."

Siri deactivated her practice-lightsaber and scowled at him. "Learning this could be useful, it's not like I could learn this at the Temple or anywhere else."

A malicious smile spread across Sidious's face. "You are quite right. The Jedi would have hidden this knowledge from you. There is so much they would keep from you."

She frowned, but did not respond. It was true, in a sense, but she figured a need to know basis kind of took precedent with the Jedi. She didn't hold it against them... well... mostly.

When she didn't answer his bait, he didn't seem irritated, he instead moved on, glancing down at the lightsaber in her hand. "Tell me, my apprentice, which form do you prefer?"

"Ataru," she said, shifting into an opening stance, "I have some training with Shien."

"Then both are barred from your training for the time being," the Sith replied.

Siri gawked. "Excuse me?"

Sidious seemed amused. "I did not think you were deaf my apprentice."

"Why are they banned?" she asked, incredulous, "They're what I'm good at!"

"And while you are 'good' at those forms, which is questionable measure from one who is but an apprentice, you lack in other areas," explained Sidious, "Specialize in one form if you must, but a Sith must be a master in all forms."

Siri scoffed. "And you are?"

"As a matter of fact...," said Sidious, his wrist snapping forward and a lightsaber flying from a rack to his hand as he launched himself at her.

Siri barely had a chance to bring up her saber to block. "What kind of warning is that?!"

Sidious didn't answer, instead, he proceeded to demolish Siri in a few strokes of his saber, both disarming her and leaving a burn down her right arm through her tunic.

She hissed and stepped back, clutching her arm to her chest.

"In case you were not paying attention," said Sidious, "That was a basic disarming slash, a classic of Shii-Cho. The first of the lightsaber forms to be crafted, back when the wielders of the Force were beginning to shift away from swords to early lightsabers. It is considered to be wild, raw..."

"I know!" she spat out with frustration, clenching and unclenching her fist, "I'm not some five year old initiate! Master Drallig hammered them into my head enough times as it is!"

Sidious pointed a warning finger at her. "Be mindful of your tongue my apprentice. You doubted my skill and knowledge, I decided to show you. Now pick up the lightsaber, I have another six forms to best you with."

Siri felt uneasy, sensing nothing but truth and dark amusement from the man, she simply said. "I'll take your word for it."

"That was not a request," he said with barely concealed sadistic glee.

 Sidious shifted his hilt, holding it downward and away from his body at an angle. "The Contention Form, Makashi."

In an elegant twirl he was spinning and striking out at her coming from different angles so fast all she could down was backpeddle and swing her lightsaber wildly to try and block, all the while he was speaking in a mocking tone, "Elegance and precision, not a single strike wasted, not a single action unwarranted. It is the most efficient form for lightsaber combat, though it has a weakness when facing overwhelming force when you have little time to consider precision when merely trying to stay alive. It will also not save you from a blaster bolt through your head, it is ill suited for combating ranged weaponry."

With a curved slash, he deceived her block and completely skipped over her lightsaber. He slashed her wrist, the training saber leaving an angry red welt as she hissed and dropped her saber again. She glared furiously at him, summoned her lightsaber to her hand, and charged at him recklessly.

Sidious smoothly transitioned to the defensive, parrying aside slashes, sidestepping jabs, springing away from heavy strikes, rolling away from leaping strikes. "Soresu, form III. Original developed to make up for Makashi's weakness to blasters. A true master of Soresu will never fall to anything less than a thousand strong firing at once, and even then... I hold doubts. The form can be adapted to defend against lightsabers, and can excel in a long, drawn out battle. However, it relies on outlasting your opponent, or waiting for them to slip up, and even beyond that, those who cannot truly master the form will find themselves trapped on the defense, never able to do what must be done to win. It is a form that requires extreme patience, it is not commonly used by the Sith, however, it was used by the first apprentice of the Line of Bane to such effect, she might have outdone even I with it in her prime."

Siri swung a heavy overhead strike at Sidious, who merely sidestepped and clipped his lightsaber into the side of her left thigh. She stumbled at the blaze of pain and fell to a knee.

"Ataru," continued Sidious, leaping over Siri and then turning to strike down at her, forcing her to roll on her injured thigh away from it, but paused when she did not manage to rise right away, "An aggressive acrobatic form. Not generally useful against multiple opponents unless you can kill them quickly enough. It is one of the most physically taxing forms to use, and as such, will wear down it's user if they do not win whatever fight they find themselves in quickly. Most users of it have to supplement their endurance with the Force in addition to assisting their acrobatics. Despite it's downsides, a true master of Ataru will be an unrelenting force that cannot be locked down nor pushed aside. I would show you, but you seem to **_still_ ** be on the ground."

Siri staggered to her feet, one hand clutching the burn on her thigh, the other summoning her practice-saber, glaring at Sidious. "In-case you didn't know, lightsaber burns hurt!"

Sidious slowly shook his head. "You let pain cripple you when it should empower you. Do not flinch from it, draw on it, feed off it, let it invigorate you. Pain lets you know you are still alive, so thrive off of it."

Siri hesitated, uncertainty on her face, not knowing if this was some sick joke or not, but slowly stopped trying to block the pain out. She ground her teeth as the burns along her arm, wrist, and leg surged through her. She was taken by surprise when the Dark Side fluctuated, devouring the pain, turning it into anger, at Sidious for harming her, and at herself for being weak. She stared down at her burnt wrist, marveling how turning it and sending another spike of pain through her caused her to gain strength.

"What is this...?" she whispered in disbelief.

"The power of the Dark Side," answered Sidious, "A power you have only just begun to untap, my young apprentice."

She glanced back up as he began to approach. "Form V is unique in that it has two distinct rather customizable disciplines of combat; Shien and Djem So."

He shifted into a high guard position, prompting her to attack. "Shien is the more defensive of the two, though not as much as Soresu. It excels against multiple opponents..."

"...but lacks against single opponents," completed Siri, make a few swift rapid jabs.

Considering the skill difference, he blocked them easily enough, and nodded. "Correct. It is exceptionally weak in this regard, but, would carry you through an open battlefield, maintaining both offensive and defensive measures."

Without warning he shifted into a heavy overhead attack, smashing her lightsaber out of the way and searing her other arm, electing a startled scream out of her before he booted her to the ground. "Djem So is a form long favored by the Sith, second only to Juyo. Pure raw power to overwhelm your foes, though not blindly. It maintains defense only as a basis to launch into a counter attack and then dominate the offensive. Most practitioners of it focus the Force into imbuing physical strength into their moves. Against a true master of Djem So, few can survive it's overwhelming assault."

He allowed her to reclaim her lightsaber, but made no motion to continue attacking. "This style is unique in that true masters of Form V as a whole are exceptionally deadly, able to transition between Shien and Djem So with deceptive ease. It is highly customizable to the individual who uses it when taking into size, stature, and species. There have been many masters of the form who have bled other styles into it to create their own unique variants."

A plain, almost masked look crossed his face. "Form VI is what I would consider my own personal weakest form in regards to lightsaber combat. Not for lack of skill mind you, but lack of the form having use by a true master such as myself. Niman is the most balanced lightsaber form, excelling at nothing, but not being weak against anything either. It combines basic moves and styles from the other forms together to grant it a basis to cover all situations. However, when one is a Master at all other forms, its uses wanes, save to deceive your opponent into underestimating you. Though, out of all forms, it does have one unique advantage in that it encourages alternative uses of the Force mid-combat rather than just to amplify your physical ability. Pushing, pulling, throwing objects at your opponent, and more... creative uses of the Dark Side you have yet to come to know. A Sith who employs Niman may find more opportunities to use their abilities than others."

"Like your lightning?" she warily asked.

Sidious nodded. "Correct. Though for me, shifting between direct combat and Force Lightning is hardly unique to just this style."

She found it curious he did not specifically show her the basics of this style. Not to mention... admitting it as a weakness? That seemed... not like something a darksider would do. She also couldn't get a feel from him for a moment. It was almost as if... he were lying? Theoretically... if one mastered every lightsaber form, wouldn't Niman, a form that incorporated all styles, be exceptionally deadly and unpredictable? Especially when weaving in Force abilities?

He gave her little time to contemplate it, for she felt the Dark Side swell around him as he spoke one word, "Juyo..."

With nothing short of an inhuman roar, he leapt and spun through the air and landed right in front of her. She froze up, lightsaber wavering, fear rippling through her, not a clue where he was going to strike. Rather simply, he ran her through, or as much as he could with a training saber. She cried out, dropped her lightsaber, and clutched her stomach, a searing pain spiking through her.

"Perhaps the most viscous lightsaber form," mused Sidious, slowly stalking around Siri, "Erratic, unpredictable attacks and maneuvers that leaves your opponent unbalanced. Chaos is a trait common to this form, for that is all it leaves in it's furious wake. It is an offensive form, exceptionally difficult to master, and is only surpassed in it's physical demands by Ataru. It is in a way the opposite of Soresu by sacrificing everything for to your offense. If forced onto the defensive, a practitioner of Juyo is left in an unfavorable position that must be remedied swiftly. The fury it embodies makes It is the most favored style used by the Sith, both in the Line of Bane, and prior to it with various Sith Empires and sects."

"It was the form Maul used to kill your former master," added in Sidious as a taunt, "You'd do well to learn it as your starting form as my apprentice.

Siri stiffed, shoving off the pain and standing straight up. "I will _**never** _ use that form."

Sidious stared at her, bafflement spilling across his face. "Why?"

"I refuse to use the form used by that **_beast_** ," she spat out with such hate the racks of training weapons along the outskirts of the room began to rattle and tip over as the Force trembled around her.

Sidious drew in a small breath, a pleased look crossing his face. "Your hate is an impressive thing my apprentice."

He studied her for a moment. "It is a limitation, and a weakness you choose for yourself by doing so. Considering however its lack of practitioners against the Jedi, you won't find many who use it. However, if you ever wish to best me, you will need to understand it, even if you choose not to wield it."

He chuckled. "Not that a lightsaber honestly matters for me, it is more of a Jedi's weapon than mine."

"Why not? You just spent this last half an hour showing off," she jabbed.

He barred his teeth. "Allow me to let you in on a little secret, my apprentice. If I am using my lightsaber against you, you either somehow caught me offguard and forced me to, or I am _mocking_ you."

He clenched his fist, and with a strangled cry, Siri rose into the air. Darkness wrapped around her ever sense, immense pressure forcing her throat closed. She clawed at her neck, trying to breath. Sidious waved a hand, and Siri flew across the room, slamming into the far wall. He yanked back and she flew forward, landing at his feet face first. The pressure on her throat ease away, only for lightning to roll over her body as it ripped from his hands.

He spoke casually as she writhed and screamed in agony. "The Dark Side is the only power I require, and there are none greater than **_I_** that wield it."

The lightning faded a moment later, leaving Siri involuntarily twitching on the ground. Pain, to much pain, it overloaded her, she couldn't convert it into strength. Black spots danced across her vision, consciousness slowly fading...

...until a touch stole it all away. She shivered as her pain was siphoned off, shivered again as Sidious raked a hand possessively through her hair. "My young, foolish apprentice, you still have so much to learn, and we are not yet done today. _Rise_."

Siri slowly pushed herself up, and stared at Sidious in open awe and fear. It truly hit her, just what was standing before her, what she was up against. He... he was so powerful... it was insane. He was a master of every lightsaber form, but his strength in the Force made him consider it a mockery to even draw his lightsaber? The dark presence seeping off of him was oppressive. Who even knew what else the Sith had up his sleeves... how was she ever supposed to beat this monster?

"Now then, since form IV and V are barred from you, and you refrain from form VII, which form will you choose to learn as your first as my apprentice?" questioned Sidious.

Siri said nothing for a moment, still locked up in her fear, before she got a stranglehold on it. What did she honestly expect? He was a Sith Lord, she was an apprentice, she was decades away from being strong enough to kill him. She... she was in this for the long haul. But... that was fine, she'd learn everything she could from him, and then... one day...

She pursed her lips, thinking on his question. If he considered lightsaber combat a mockery, no form would honestly work against him. Not unless he got arrogant. If he did, she'd need to capitalize instantly, and could not afford to miss. Her timing needed to be precise, and she needed to be able to excel against all other lightsaber forms...

"Makashi," she said.

There was something... calculating in his gaze as he stared at her. "Interesting."

He began circling her. "Not a form I would think a neophyte of the Dark Side to choose, or to be able to learn. It requires immense physical control, fluidity, precision, grace, and footwork. Unlike Juyo, which I think you would have excelled at, you must maintain full emotional control to master the form, knowing exactly when to use them for strength. None of this have I seen of you yet."

"You wanted me out of my comfort zone," she said with a shrug.

Sidious slowly came to a stop infront of her, and half turned. "So be it."

Her lightsaber levitated off the ground and spun until the pommel pointed to her. "Take it."

She reached and grabbed it, igniting the blade, and waited.

"Watch closely my apprentice," said Sidious, "Hold the blade down to the side at an angle, feet shoulder width apart, thumb pointing down the length of the blade rather than grasped in a fist."

Siri frowned. "Doesn't Makashi start with a salute or something?"

Sidious scowled. "If I ever see you waste time starting with the Makashi salute I will leave you on the ground writhing in agony. Using the salute warns your enemy of which style you are using, and gives them time to prepare or adjust."

"Now pay attention," said Sidious, "There are many parts to the style. The Makashi flourish. The Sun Djem, disarming your opponent, and the Shiak, the thrust to end it. The harsh counter, the 'Makashi riposte'. Recognizing when to strike, the 'contentious opportunity', and how to create such moments with feints."

Siri steeled herself as Sidious lips curled into a cruel smile and stalked forward. "I will show you all of these, my young apprentice, I do so hope you are ready to learn..."

 


	6. Into the Dark (Part 3)

Sloppy. Unrefined. Undisciplined. Pathetic. Embarrassing. Disappointing.

By Darth Bane's name, had he been like this when he started out as an apprentice? He _better_ not have been.

The thoughts trickled down Sidious's mind as he dragged his unconscious apprentice through the halls with the Force. He was already missing Maul. Oh he had so much work to do. She had all that potential, and barely a clue how to bring any of it out. She could hardly use the Dark Side for anything but base actions. Feeding off pain and anger was something any neophyte of the Dark Side could do. To turn that power into something refined? She was far from it. Her blasted Jedi training was interfering, he could feel it, that sickening light that was still far to bright. It had shrunk ever so slightly over the week he had been away, but not nearly enough, not like it had in her cell. She wanted the power to kill him, it was no secret, and something he would encourage, but it was like a forbidden fruit. She wanted it, she knew she wanted it, had probably said outloud to herself that she wanted it, but could only nibble on the fruit, restraining herself.

He slowly shook his head. He didn't know why he was surprised, or irritated. It was to be expected. This... transitional period... was not typical for most fallen Jedi. At least not since the great Sith Empires of the past existed. Fallen, ' _taken in_ ' by a Sith, delving into the Dark Side for the express purpose of killing the Sith who claimed them, slowly being tempted and turned more and more by the power. Most fallen Jedi in this day and age simply rushed in headfirst and embraced the Dark Side. There had been one not to long ago, what was his name again, Xana-something? The gnat's name didn't really matter.

The situation did.

His apprentice was unbalanced, unable to properly give herself over to the Dark Side, but because she had fallen, she had no grasp of the light and could not even be considered properly 'grey'. She had no even footing in the Force, and it bled out visibly. Her first attempts at Makashi were pitiful and counterproductive. If she had given herself over to Juyo, to encourage her to use ferocity and anger into her fighting style, it would quicken her descent. But no, she had chosen a form that required heavy control over herself. The form was of course not without merits. So few Jedi practiced Makashi, or even knew how to properly fight it. She would easily slaughter almost any Jedi she fought, which was why he allowed it. Only Dooku was a true master of the form, Sidious grudgingly admitted Dooku was probably better with it than he was, not that it would save him in an actual confrontation with the Sith Lord. Regardless, it was yet again a long term investment VS a short term problem.

He had the annoying feeling that that issue would crop up a lot with his apprentice.

Sidious reached his apprentice's room and not-so-gracefully levitated her above her bed and then dumped her on it. He leaned against a nearby wall, staring silently at her unconscious form. He pondered, for the briefest of moments, if she was honestly worth the effort. His greatest ' _fear_ ' was that the Jedi training would always hold her back, preventing her from being a true Sith. Wasting years trying to train an apprentice only for the effort to fail was a danger that had plagued the Line of Bane since it's inception. Even the first master and apprentice, Bane and Zannah, had that issue. Bane had went in search of immortality because he feared his apprentice had become unworthy, waiting for Bane to weaken with old age. Of course that problem had sorted itself out, but, it was a doubt that plagued each successive Sith Master to come. It was a doubt that was making him second guess his choice in her.

Slowly, he stalked forward until he reached the side of her bed, he reached forward and raked a hand possessively through her hair, dark energy swelling around him. "You have the potential, but are you worthy, my apprentice?"

He would not waste his time, the Dark Side **_would_ ** show him the answer. He dove into it's depths, trying to pry the secrets of his apprentice's future...

* * *

_She had grown into a powerful woman, still bearing the robes of a Sith Apprentice. She discarded her cloak, drew her lightsaber, and activated it, a blood red igniting from both ends, a contemptible sneer on her face. His apprentice dueled a pair of Jedi in the Theed Palace in Naboo. Her blade spun defensively back and forth, forming an impressive wall of defense the Jedi could not penetrate as she lured them deeper into the complex. Yet despite the intent of the duel, her eyes, her blue eyes, seemed troubled, and not the Sithly yellow they should be..._

* * *

Sidious frowned, thoughtful. He recognized this, from the vision he had of Maul, the moment the Sith announced themselves to the Jedi. He was curious how her form would switch from a single saber Makashi to a double-bladed Soresu, but dismissed it. This was good, that she would challenge the Jedi, yet, those eyes were not that of a Sith. Did she simply become a replacement tool for Maul? He scowled intently, unsatisfied, and dove back into the Dark Side. He demanded of it, ' _Show me my Apprentice, show me my Sith_ ', ' _show me a Sith worthy of contending for the mantle of the Dark Lord of the Sith_ '...

* * *

_Sidious saw himself dueling Master Yoda in the senate building, throwing the repulsorpods at the little green troll. The two of them ended the confrontation in a massive struggle of Force energy, lightning exploding between them. Yoda crashed to the far bottom of the chamber as Sidious cackled with laughter, pulling himself up to a pod. He stared down at the troll mockingly, the Jedi had failed. He was still alive, victory was his!_

_"Celebrating already Master?" came a cold voice._

_Sidious froze and slowly turned, sighting his apprentice walking out onto a repulsorpod behind him, purple saberstaff activating, deadly intent in her blue eyes._

_Sidious sneered at her, levitating his own lightsaber back into his hands, his voice mocking, "If it isn't my blue-eyed apprentice. Come to attempt what the Jedi failed to do? You must know your no match for me, Tachi."_

_Siri's lips peeled pack into her own sneer as the temperature in the room plummeted, and the repulsorpods began to shake. "Siri Tachi isn't here right now."_

_Sidious let a small gasp of surprise escape his lips as the Dark Side howled around the young woman, yet he was not fearful, no, he was delighted. "At last. You've returned to me my apprentice, welcome back Darth..."_

_He didn't get another word out as she leaped through the air, an inhuman dark roar escaping her lips, intensely yellow Sith eyes blazing as she brought her lightsaber down upon his..._

* * *

Dark elation and satisfaction rippled out of Sidious. "Good, good. Clever too, waiting for my to expend myself against Yoda."

He was more than curious about how he came to be dueling that little troll in the senate chamber, but he'd allow time to reveal that mystery to him. Yet... something about his word choice in the vision troubled him. Come back to him? What exactly did that mean...

He had little time to dwell on the thought as the Dark Side gripped him, taking him by surprise as it dragged him down into another vision, this time not by his own desire...

* * *

_A cloaked Sith Master strode through the ancient ruins of Korriban, a little brown haired girl fearfully following behind her. "D-do we h-have to c-come here? It's s-scary..."_

_The Sith Master paused, and then spoke, Sidious recognized the voice of his apprentice. "The dark is nothing to fear Leia."_

_"B-but...," began the little girl._

_His apprentice cut her off. "You said you wanted the power to take revenge, did you not, my apprentice? You can't take it if you stand there trembling like a coward."_

_Leia froze up for a moment before anger and rage so unusual for one so young played across her face. "I will! I will take revenge! I'll kill that decrepit old bastard for what he did to my family!"_

_"Then come," said the Sith Master, continuing her path into the dark ruins._

_Leia's head briefly turned back the way she came, towards the light and a ship that could take her off the planet, before she turned back and followed her Master into the darkness..._

* * *

The Dark Side let Sidious go, a pleasured purr of satisfaction in his ear. Sidious pulled his hand out of his apprentice's hair, satisfied as well. The Line of Bane would continue. While he was somewhat disappointed he would perish, it was how it had been for the last thousand years. Oh he had no plans of going easy on his apprentice, in fact, he would be a fool to allow her the chance to fight him after he had wasted energy fighting Yoda. The future was always in motion after all. He briefly paused on the hazy image of his... what would the term be? Grand-apprentice? It wasn't something Sith generally had the chance to think about, it was more a Jedi thing to actually interact with their legacy lines. He wondered who could inspire such rage in so young a girl, he did not envy whoever it was, the wrath of the Sith was a legendary thing. They were going to die a painful death, that much he could feel without needing to delve back into the future.

He examined his apprentice again, longing to see and possess that dangerous yellow glint in her future self's eye, his hand gripping the side of her face tightly. "You are **_mine_ ** my apprentice. Your future is my darkness, your path is my legacy. You will become everything _**I**_ choose you to be, until you break your final chain and kill me, becoming the Master."

He flashed a malicious grin. "If your strong enough when the time comes that is. I wont hesitate to kill you and continue chasing immortality if you fail after all."

He let out a slow devious laughter break through his lips, making his apprentice shift uncomfortably in her sleep, a nightmarish look crossing her face...

* * *

The next day became the first of many under her Master's direct watchful eye. In the morning, he directed her into a... new... type of meditation...

He stalked around her in the dimly lit barren meditation room. "To meditate in the Dark Side is to focus on one's self. The Jedi would have you empty your mind, abandon your sense of self. For one who resides in darkness, you must become the focal point, the direction of your meditation. Focus on your emotions, let them swell within you."

"That's... that entire purpose sounds selfish," said Siri.

"The Dark Side often is," mused Sidious.

Siri pursed her lips, trying to wrap her mind around it. Selfish meditation, making the entire point of it being about her. Force she felt shameful even thinking about it, and yet... also eager to try it. She hadn't been able to meditate properly since she... she fell..., even if it was a selfish meditation, she wanted to center herself.

"What is... the best emotion to use?" asked Siri.

"It differs per user," admitted Sidious, "Generally, anger is the easiest start."

"Can any emotion be used?" asked Siri.

"Anger, hate, frustration, greedy, envy," said Sidious, waving a hand, "Any darker emotion will fulfill the requirement."

She pondered briefly if positive emotions could be used, but figured they either couldn't or Sidious wouldn't want them to be used. Siri closed her eyes, took in a breath, and slowly let it out. She focused on the image of **_the beast_** that killed Master Gallia. Anger and hate roiled around her. Instead of directing it anywhere, to use it, she dove into it, let it wash over her. She... she hated seeing the sight of her Master dying in her minds eye again, yet she knew no other way to maintain such an intense level of rage. Slowly, she felt the emotions compact around her, and then within her, rather than churning all around the air about her. She felt... not calm, not at all, but focused. Intensely focused.

"What's next?" she snarled out, opening her eyes to glare at Sidious.

The Sith slowly stepped forward and reached down, grabbing her chin and tilting her head up, a scowl spreading across his face when he looked into her eyes from underneath his hood. "For such intense hate, your eyes are still sickeningly blue."

She blinked once, blinked twice, and lost her anger and hate to pure confusion. "What does my eye color have to do with anything?"

"More then you think, my blue-eyed apprentice," he said with so mocking a tone she knew it had to be a heavy insult, though she couldn't figure out why, "I suppose I feel the issue. The anger you feel is not the anger a Sith requires."

Siri's eyebrows furrowed. "Anger is anger."

Sidious scoffed. "And you would know anything about the dreaded emotion that Jedi so readily fear?"

"A Jedi does not fear," said Siri.

Sidious's lips slowly peeled back into a cruel smile. "You did."

Siri went silent for a moment before she gave a soft sigh. "And that's why I fell."

Sidious, in what was starting to become a very familiar manner to Siri, began to slowly circle her. "To answer your question. Anger comes in many different forms. Righteous anger, what you feel towards Maul, is a more neutral type of anger. It is a poor fuel for the Dark Side, but if accompanied by an immense infusion of hate, it will work sufficiently."

"Petty anger, small things that irritate you, are merely tinder for the fire," said Sidious, "Or embers that ignite it. Think of something small that angers you, then link it to something larger, and then repeat the process until you have a pathway to that which makes you boil inside."

"Huh," murmured Siri, "That's one way to continually keep yourself angry."

"That is the point, apprentice," said Sidious thinly, irritation faintly leaking through his shields, "I would have thought that evident. Surely the Jedi must have stories about the 'raging Sith' of the past."

"Well, yeah, but...," said Siri before trailing off, "But, why?"

Sidious gave her a quizzical look. "Why what?"

"Why be angry and hateful all the time?" she asked honestly, "I get that you use it for power, but all the time? Isn't that a lot of effort to maintain it? To never relax?"

Sidious leveled his yellow eyes at her. "While it has changed to a degree since the Rule of Two began, Sith of ancient times needed to have their power readily available. Treachery is the way of the Sith, and to let your guard down for a moment was begging to die, to be killed by fellow Sith and have your position taken and assets converted."

"That just... seems like an awful way to live," said Siri quietly.

Sidious didn't seem to care. "There is always a price one must pay for power my apprentice. The struggle to gain and maintain that power never fades."

Siri nodded slowly before asking, "What exactly is the Rule of Two?"

"Two there should be; no more, no less. One to embody power, the other to crave it," said Sidious with an odd mixture of reverence and loathing.

"I... don't get it," she said, "Two what?"

"Two Sith," he answered, exasperated, "Or have you not noted the lack of legions of Sith parading around the Galaxy?"

Siri bristled a bit but squashed it. "I suppose."

"The Sith were our own worst enemy," mused Sidious, "We lost our wars with the Jedi not through their strength, but our own, because we destroyed ourselves. The Rule of Two corrects this. The Master trains the apprentice until the Apprentice becomes strong enough to kill the Master and take their place."

Siri stared at him blankly for a moment. "You... you want me to kill you!?"

Sidious shrugged. "If you become strong and worthy enough I suppose it wouldn't be to much of a travesty."

Siri was speechless. "You..."

Oh she was pissed! She wanted him dead, but that was what he wanted? Kind of? What in the nine Corellian Hells was this madness...?

All she could really manage was a sputtering, "Y-You Sith are screwed up!"

"It works," said Sidious with seeming indifference, "Each generation of Sith builds upon the last, towards the return of the Sith and our revenge."

"Revenge?" asked Siri.

"While the Sith may destroy themselves, it has almost always been the Jedi who deal the final blow," spat Sidious, "Time and time again since the original split between the two orders, when the Jedi so foolishly cast us out, they have slaughtered us. When the time comes, the Sith will have their revenge against the Jedi."

"Wait... what?" she said, completely bypassing the revenge bit over something she couldn't possibly believe, "The Sith and Jedi... no way, there's no way they were ever joined..."

"The Je'daii Order was a sect of Force Sensitives that lived on the planet Tython roughly twenty-five thousand years ago," said Sidious with a hint of disdain, "It was a sect that foolishly preached balance. It worked I suppose for a time, until someone discovered their tiny little hidden corner of the Galaxy and tipped the scales."

"Balance?" she asked.

"A fools notion," mused Sidious, "The Je'daii attempted to maintain a balance within themselves of both sides of the Force. Live in a perfectly sterile environment, isolated from the rest of the Galaxy with a strict regiment, which included banishment to two separate moons of all things if one broke said regiment, and perhaps you can. But the moment real life, real hardship, enters the picture, that fake balance is thrown away. The true nature, the _dark_ _nature_ of the Galaxy, is all there really is, and it always wins in the end. Those of the Je'daai that focused more on the call of the dark than the light were eventually cast out, and thus began a conflict that has lasted almost twenty-five thousand years."

Siri was silent. She didn't feel any deception from the Sith, in fact, his shields were slightly lowered, a mocking sensation emanating from him, daring her to second guess him and taste for the truth. She didn't bother. "I see."

"Do you really?" questioned Sidious, "While I personally do not care, let me enlighten you of something. How many wars between the Jedi and the Sith have broken out in that timeframe, if you know? How many lives have been lost because those that would become the Jedi refused to accept the dark?"

Siri didn't answer, extremely uncomfortable with the question.

"Trillions," said Sidious simply, "Perhaps even more if one considers the amount of bloodlines that were prevented from running their course. A single man could have had many branching descendants in that time-frame after all."

Siri pursed her lips, hands shaking at even the notion of such loss or prevention of life.

"Such a shame too," mused Sidious, "And here I thought those of the light were supposed to be tolerant..."

"Enough!" spat Siri, rising to her feet.

Only for her to get flattened with a wave of Sidious's hand, immense pressure burying her face into the floor. "No my apprentice, it is never enough, will never be enough until the Jedi have truly been brought low as the Sith have been, to extinction. And they will have no one to blame but themselves. For incurring the revenge of the Sith. And being so incompetent that they can't find the darkness hiding under their nose."

He cackled. "Would you be interested in knowing that we are not honestly that far from the Jedi Temple right now?"

Siri managed to twist her head to stare up at him in disbelief.

"It's true, I'm using the Dark Side not even half a planet away and they have naught a clue. Beyond that, I've been in the presence of many a Jedi, even Master Yoda, and they've been none the wiser," boasted Sidious, "Those who flounder in light can never find what resides in darkness, even if it's staring them right in their arrogant faces."

The pressure lifted off of her, and Siri slowly rose to a sitting position. "How?"

"It is called Force Clouding, and it is one of the first techniques you will learn from me," said Sidious, a cruel smile playing across his lips, "I will show you how, it's not honestly a difficult technique to master, and you will hide somewhere in this building. If I find you, I will punish you for your failure. We will repeat this process until you are able to successfully force me to find you by chance rather than your leaking presence."

"And how do I know you won't just lie and 'punish' me if you find me by chance anyway?" spat Siri.

A mocking tone rang out of the man's list, "My apprentice, you wound me."

He hadn't even bothered to outright deny it...

"But I believe we have skipped ahead," said Sidious, "If I recall, I was explaining anger to you. Righteous and petty anger, while they have their uses, are not what a Sith needs. Pure, raw, rage, is what ignites a Sith's fury."

"Wouldn't that impair my judgment?" she asked, forcing herself to let go of the previous conversation, "I've seen it enough in other hot-headed padawans."

"indeed," said Sidious with a hint of approval, "Lesser Sith would be consumed by their rage, letting it posses and control them when they should control it. Such rage needs to be kept in check, behind chains, until you set it free at the right moment."

"So... only allow yourself to get mad and explode when it actually serves a purpose," summarized Siri.

"Correct," answered Sidious, "But beyond simple rage, there is something... else... that has served as the foundation of the Rule of Two. Something so much more."

"What?" asked Siri.

She wished she hadn't asked. Coldness bled out into the air all around them as Sidious's awful presence chocked the air. She couldn't help but wrap her arms around herself in a reflexive attempt to stay warm. By the Force... what was this?

"Cold anger," said Sidious, his voice ice, "Allowed to boil quietly beneath the surface. Where hot rage is a uncontrollable bomb that burns out once spent, cold fury is a guided missile that can be held for decades."

Siri couldn't help it. She forgot her anger and hate for the man and felt pure, raw, fear. She had never felt hatred like what was emanating from Sidious before. The darkness that bled out of him was like a swirling malevolent vortex, a black hole, that consumed everything around it. It was the most awful thing ever. He radiated so much pure power. She was scared of him, _oh_ now more than ever, but it gave her a brief measure, a goal of just how strong she had to become to kill him.

She had a long way to go.

Sidious's presence retracted, along with the pressure binding Siri to the floor. "This type of anger is what you must learn to wield. The one most compatible with hatred, it's constant companion. Learn to sit on your anger, your hate, let it boil and build for years, decades, until at last, the moment of reckoning arrives. Do you understand?"

Was this anger... this hate... really the source of his power? Did it truly give him so much strength? Could she learn to harness that kind of power? Force... now that the fear was gone, thinking of the power he had... could she become that powerful...?

"I understand... but... I'm not sure how," she admitted, "I've never held anger or hate like that."

Sidious nodded in acknowledgement. "I would not have expected a former Jedi to. But you will learn, oh yes, you will learn. Now... moving on to what I hinted at earlier..."

"The first part of hiding your presence is to withdraw your energy into yourself, to not use the Force unless for a specific purpose," he explained.

Siri gave him a baffled look. "I'm not using the Force right now."

"Aren't you?" he asked, amused, "Are you not always sensing the area around you? Able to detect Force Sensitives without even laying your eyes upon them? Able to feel a disturbance in the Force off at a distance? Always open to hear to hear a whisper or warning the Force deigns to give you?"

Siri went silent.

"Need I go on?" mocked Sidious.

"No," said Siri, "But... how would I stop doing that?"

"Close your eyes," demanded Sidious.

She did so.

"A Jedi would tell you to feel for the Force," said Sidious, "I would tell you to feel for yourself."

Siri's eyebrows furrowed. "Myself?"

"You can identify the Force Signatures of others, but have you ever truly identified your own?" asked Sidious.

Siri frowned, trying to puzzle out what he was going for. "Every Jedi does, we learn how to reach through the Force through our connection to it..."

Sidious growled in warning, shutting her up before he spoke, "No you fool. I am not talking about _using_ the Force. I am talking about identifying your own presence! The concept is not that difficult. Search for your own signature as you would another's. Feel for the energy, the presence you give off."

It was a... curious task. She wasn't sure exactly how to go about it. Feeling inwardly for the Force was easy, but... not what he was going for. Going off a guess, she reached out for his presence, poking and prodding very lightly as to not agitate. Sidious didn't so much as twitch, she could feel his eyes boring into her though, a not-so-subtle burst of impatience slamming right into her next prod. She took the hint, took that probe, and tried doing the same thing to herself.

It was such an odd thing, to try to look outside-in. She first poked at her mental shields, not peeking out from the inside, but trying to look at them as an outside force would. Though it wasn't the goal of the task she had been given, her shields made her slightly cringe, she had to work on getting them back into top shape. She had done very little to repair or reinforce them ever since... well... before she fell.

She shook off the observation for later and began trying to poke for the Force around her. Despite her eyes being closed, she could see an almost aura like outline around herself. It was chaotic, light and dark swirling and clashing around and within herself. As for the feeling she gave of... it wasn't what she had thought it would be, hoped it would be.

It was awful to really realize how one's world could be ruined in so short a time. Siri had thought she would always come off as a strong, confidence, wont-take-your-shit kind of person. The sensation she felt emanating from herself was nothing of the sort. It felt... broken... weak... confused... lost... frustrated and angry...

Worst of all.

Her presence felt helpless, like she was floundering around.

She had felt plenty of self-loathing during her captivity. But self-hatred? That was new, and that was what her presence made her feel.

"Ah, I feel you've finally realized it," said Sidious, "Just how pitiful you are right now."

Siri opened her eyes and glared at him, frustration and shame churning in her stomach.

Sidious smiled mockingly in response. "All the helpless anger in the universe wont aid you. You think dabbling slowly into darkness and wanting to kill me gives you a purpose? Fool, all Sith Apprentices, worthy or not, have that same desire. In ancient times, Sith used to have a multitude of apprentices or acolytes, all of them power hungry, most of them were pathetic weaklings that the Master would keep around for their own amusement, to kill later to make a point, or to sacrifice to further their own goals."

He bared his teeth. "Is that what you want? My blue-eyed apprentice? To be a tool used for my amusement and gain, only to be thrown away when it suits me?"

"I am not a tool!" she spat at him.

Sidious sneered at her. "No, you're not, at the moment you are a useless little girl, not even managing to attain the status of a tool."

Siri flinched at that.

He slowly shook his head. "It's going to take such effort to mold you. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth the effort, if I shouldn't just kill you right here and now."

Siri froze for a moment, fear spiking, before she took a stranglehold on it and crushed it. "Yeah? Well what would you do in my position?"

"I would never be in your position for starters," mused Sidious, "I took to the darkness quite well. My first true act of the dark side was to slaughter my entire family."

Siri chocked a bit. "Y-you what?!"

Sidious grinned, slowly licking his lips. "My one regret out of that was that I didn't catch the moment on holo to watch over and over again. It was the moment I stepped onto my path to greatness. I pledged myself to my Master not much later and began my journey to what you see now."

Siri frowned for a moment, looking past his mass murder and focusing on the one thing she desired at the moment, "What was it like? To kill your Master?"

Oddly, that question seemed to catch him offguard, he went silent, a scowl spreading across his lips.

Instead of directly answering, he raised a hand and unleashed a burst of lightning, sending Siri to the ground writhing in pain. "You'll uncover that sensation on your own. Which you'll never do if you don't put yourself together, pick your path, and get on with it."

He withdrew his lightning, leaving her smoking a little, "Now, to continue, focus on your presence again."

Siri took in a few shaky breaths, trying to will the pain away, before closing her eyes

"You know your pitiful presence, now grasp it, and withdraw it into yourself," ordered Sidious.

Siri focused on the aura of dark and light energy warring around her. She watched it for a moment before trying to withdraw it, focusing the Force within herself. Slowly, the aura bled into her, until most if it had sunk within her skin.

"Passable," muttered Sidious, "But your leaking the Force out of your body. The next step is to imagine your body like your mind and create a... not a shield, but a disguise."

"Disguise?" she asked.

"Of insignificance," he answered, "As if you are just a normal, everyday pathetic sentient who isn't worth looking into. This allows you to move about in public without someone feeling your Force Signature. They will still feel you, but what they feel is merely a mask that you wear."

Siri blanked for a moment, the Jedi did something like that on missions to go unnoticed, this wasn't to many steps above it. "Force... is it really that easy?"

"Yes," said the Sith.

"And no one sees through it?" she asked.

"No," he answered, "Jedi generally don't bother to dig deeper. If for some reason they do, it's fairly easy to fake something for them to feel to satisfy their probe."

"Not to mention it's taboo for a Jedi to force a mind probe in without just cause," she murmured.

"Indeed," mocked Sidious, "The Jedi limit themselves in so many ways, it's easy to dance around them, as the Sith have been doing for the last thousand years. Now, let's see if you can do the same."

For once since she got here, she had absolutely no lack of confidence in this task. She imagined herself as Bruck Chun. A dead pathetic loser who tried to act tough and pick on other people, **_especially_ **_her_ poor Obi-Wan, oh it pissed her off now to think back on how Bruck had tormented her friend. The truth of it was that Bruck was so insecure about his own lack of Master that it was all he could do to alleviate his own fears by putting down others. He had been a pawn to Xanatos, and died one. She could commend Obi-Wan for trying to save that asshole, but she would have considered a kick to Bruck's face sending the boy plummeting to his death a more appropriate response.

She took that shield, that mask, fueled it with her anger at Bruck, and wrapped herself in it.

"Well now," mused Sidious, starting forward and beginning to circle her.

Siri could feel light probes around her, not attempts to seriously dig in, but to test for any obvious weakness. "Acceptable for your first try I suppose."

She took that as the closest thing to a compliment he would ever really give her.

Sidious motioned to the door. "Perhaps this lesson may not take as long as I thought. Go, hide yourself. I will seek you out. Remember, if I find you, I will punish you. We will continue either until you pass out, you satisfy my expectations, or I have to leave to tend to other matters."

Siri fled the room and down the hall, searching for an appropriate spot. Her thoughts turned inward as she moved. She was pleased she had taken this lesson quite well in her opinion, but it didn't hide the shame she felt for what her presence gave off. She hated it. Back when she was an initiate, she had been one of the best, even able to challenge initiates older than her, and young padawans, beating them all in lightsaber practice. She had been confident and sure of herself. Fallen or not, dark side or not...

She wanted that feeling back.

No more pussyfooting. She needed to find stability, if not in the light that had seemingly _abandoned_ her, then the dark. She'd take the time during this exercise to work on repairing her mental shields. Then, after they were done with this, she'd spend time getting used to feeling and using the Dark Side. She swore she would never truly become a Sith, never, but... but... she needed the Dark Side to eventually challenge Sidious, she knew it. She'd devote herself to his lessons, learn everything she could from him, then kill him.

Afterwords...

Well... she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she needed a hiding place. She found an store room in the back off the infirmary, flicked off the lights, and strode into the darkness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidious totally missed who Leia was referring to in the vision, but then again, he's not a decrepit old bastard yet, is he? :D


	7. Cruelties

Censured.

Obi-Wan mulled it over as he ate in the dining hall. As if his own bitterness and sadness over that horrific mission and the loss of Siri wasn't enough, the Council censured them for half a karking year! Six months grounded to the temple was insane! While it was true the mission itself had been an absolute mess on both the master's and the padawan's sides, he felt it was a bit extreme. But... a high councilor along with her promising padawan was dead. They had let the mission slip right through their fingers when they had it in the bag. They had Tally safe! The boy had been in the room with two Jedi masters and two padawans, and somehow had been stolen away right under their noses. Then the pairs of Jedi separated, and everything went wrong.

A high councilor dead.

Siri dead _(oh Siri...)._

Tally probably also dead, or worse.

The mission had been a utter disaster. A black streak against both his and his master's records. Even worse, the temple rumor mill had started up, and now it was apparently both his and Qui-Gon's fault a council-member was dead. All of Siri's friends who weren't also his friends went out of their way to shoot him cold looks. He hoped Qui-Gon didn't have to suffer the same from Master Gallia's friends. Bant and Garen were the only ones who stood by Obi-Wan. And Reeft, but he always swore that Dressellian boy stuck around merely to steal food off his plate-like right now.

Obi-Wan's hand smacked his away, shooting him a scowl. "Hey!"

Reeft shot him a sheepish look. "I don't mean to sound greedy, but may I have your meat?"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and shoved the plate his way. "By all means, you had but to ask."

"So giving," said Reeft, "Exemplary example of being a Jedi."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Yes, definitely a Jedi, giving their food to those _starving_ and _underfed_."

Reeft gave him an innocent look, which Obi-Wan returned with a pointed one.

Bant gave a laugh at that. "Boys, behave, or I'll tell Master Che you two want to help out in the Halls of Healing."

Both of them went quiet without a further word.

Garen laughed. "Afraid of the healers. Ah man, if Siri were hear, she'd tease the both of you."

Obi-Wan's face cracked a little. "Probably."

"We needa Yoda joke," said Garen, making Obi-Wan sniggered a little, behind a hand he hid his restored smile, for he most certainly, _certainly_ , did not partake in such a playful mockery of the Grandmaster of the Order.

"'Fear of the healers', path to the Dark Side it is'," said Garen in his most Yoda-like voice, "Siri woulda loved that one."

Obi-Wan flinched a little at that. Mentioning Siri and the Dark Side so close together made him raw in a way he did not like. For a moment, he was back in the mission, feeling Siri fall before she died. He abruptly shook his head, released his anxiety to the Force, and plastered a fake smile on his face. Bant of course noticed, giving him a concerned look, but Garen and Reeft didn't seem to, the both of them starting to crack one joke after another. He couldn't blame them for it. Garen hadn't lost many people, but for those he did, he always actively remembered, said it hurt worse to forget about them than the pain of remembering.

He didn't know if he should bury her memory, or be like Garen. He tilted his head in thought, perhaps he ought to ask his master. He knew Qui-Gon still thought about Tahl every now and then. Though, could he really compare the two pairs? Qui-Gon and Tahl had loved eachother for years, him and Siri? A few days at best. Passing it off as a momentary infatuation might make it easier to bear.

Yet... they **_had_ ** felt something, so trying to do so felt like it would be spitting on her grave... he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Obi-Wan shook his head, frustration rippling through his body. Enough of this, he was tired of getting pulled back and forth by his emotions and everyone's unintentional commentary. He sorely needed to meditate. He bid his friends an abrupt farewell, eyes not meeting Bant's concerned ones, and made to leave...

Only to eat the floor as a leg came out from a nearby table and tripped him, a voice mocking, "Careful Oaffy-Wan! Might _kill a padawan_ with your clumsiness!"

Obi-Wan didn't move for a second, disbelief coursing through him. Did they seriously just say that to his face? Fire _burned_ at his core for a moment, especially at that damned old cruel name, Force he hadn't heard that since Bruck. He so sorely wanted to launch himself at whoever had said that...

But Bant was there in an instant, helping him to his feet and shooting a glare at the offender in question before leading him away, murmuring, "It's not worth it."

"Maybe not," he whispered back angrily, "But I want to."

"You are on censure," she warned quietly as they left the cafeteria, "Regardless of how absurd that censure is for something that wasn't your fault, you can't afford to get in trouble."

Obi-Wan sighed and did his best to release his anger into the Force. "I know, thank you."

"Don't let those poor excuses of Jedi get to you," advised Bant, glaring back at the shrinking cafeteria doors, "They've obviously failed to learn that compassion is the way of the Jedi. Now come, lets get you back to your Master."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "I can walk on my own you know."

Bant gave him a smile that was all teeth. "I'm walking with you as dissuasion for others."

Obi-Wan snorted, but didn't comment. Force, had it truly gotten that bad that she felt the need to be protective of him? Then again, he had eaten floor a minute ago courtesy of his padawan peers. It filled him with resignation. This wasn't the first time this had happened, after he had left the Order to try to help Ceresi and the Young, there had been much of the same. This Censure plus the rumors and bile thrown his way on top of that just made him feel... weary of his fellow Jedi. It was often suggested during Censures to mingle and befriend Jedi one didn't know to help pass the time. That wasn't going to happen. The last few weeks, especially today, made him not want to even leave his quarters, let alone make friends with any of his tormentors or those who looked down upon him and his master with disapproval.

The next six months were going to be rough...

* * *

Siri followed her Mas-Sidious, _not her Master_ , curiously down the hall. They had spent the last few days debating the Jedi, their Code, the Sith, and theirs, and their history. She had learned so much about the conflict that had predated the Republic. Ancient Sith lords such as Exar Kun, Marka Ragnos, Darth Nihilus, Darth Sion, Darth Revan, and many others. Each one was a lesson, often about the strengths of the Dark Side or as a warning. The last one in particular had been a scary one; that the Jedi Order would Strip someone's mind and identity to bend them back to their will was deeply unsettling.

Today, Sidious had said they would be having a practical lesson, to 'wean her off Jedi tendencies'. She wondered 'which' tendency he was referring to. She followed him into a room...

...and paused in the doorway, sighting a family of Togruta; a man, a woman, and two children bound to chairs, gags in their mouth. The older two were to one side of the room, the children to the other. A sinking feeling hit Siri all of the sudden, something bad was about to happen.

"You're task is simple, my apprentice," said Sidious, handing her a lightsaber, "Kill them all."

Siri chocked. "Y-you're joking."

Sidious stared at her. "No apprentice, I am not. The mere fact you hesitate shows me just how much this lesson is necessary. You must be willing to kill at a moments notice, no matter who and what it is you kill. Men, woman, children, it shouldn't matter. A Sith will do what they must to achieve their goals, regardless of who is in the way. Now, kill them."

A nervous gulp ran down her throat. She felt the fear from the captives rising steadily. It was... an intoxicating sensation, alluring, but so sinful. She had said she didn't want to pussyfoot anymore... but this... these were innocent people. She couldn't...

Sidious sighed at her hesitation. "Still so entrapped within the Jedi Mindset. Here, I shall make this _choice_ easier for you. I will slowly torture them to death over a greatly extended period of time, their only release from their suffering will be the lightsaber in your hand."

Before she could respond, he turned and aimed a hand, lightning (much weaker from what he had done to her she noted) rushed from his fingertips, electrocuting both sets of occupants. Muffled screams ripped through their gags, making Siri's heart skip a beat. The sight, the stench of frying children ignited such a fury in her. She turned on Sidious without hesitation, rushing at him, lightsaber raised...

Only for the lightning to switch targets, increase in intensity, and throw her across the room, lightsaber falling from her hands. "Typical Jedi response. Oh my apprentice I am quite disappointed."

She screamed as the lightning grew in intensity. "You have so far to go, so shall I make this even easier? There are two pairs, the children and the parents. Kill one pair, and I won't force you to kill the other. Is this _acceptable_?"

Sidious stopped the lightning and stared down, yellow eyes boring into her. "Well?"

Siri took in a ragged breath. "F-fine..."

The children... they were truly innocent, they had to live. Being a Jedi, she hadn't known her own parents, but from what she had seen and heard any real parent would die for their children... so it... it had to be at least better this way... it had to be okay...

Right?

Siri shakily rose to her feet, picking up the lightsaber and wobbled over to the parents. She stared at them silently. One's shoulder's had gone lax, resigned, but accepting. The other was still panicking, trying to beg or plead or whatever through the gag. She glared at the second one, a sting of anger running through her, momentarily banishing the building anxiety and reluctance in her. A parent should be willing to make this sacrifice, if this was their reaction...

She slashed downward, leaving a burning diagonal line from shoulder to opposing thigh without hesitation, savoring the muffled scream and putting that disgusting excuse for a parent out of it's misery. She flexed her grip on the lightsaber, feeling a rush of cold enter her. The notion of killing the second wasn't as... bad as it felt before. She would give this one a quick death as a sign of respect, over in an instant. Lightsaber through the middle of their head was a quick enough way.

She withdrew her lightsaber, feeling only a slight churn of guilt, burried under the growing cold. "There, happy?"

"Positively elated," said Sidious dryly, holding out a hand and ripping his lightsaber from her grip with the Force without further word and slowly started towards the children.

Siri frowned, that bad feeling from earlier bubbling up again. "Now, you said you'd let them go."

Sidious turned his head, flashing a cruel smile. "I said I wouldn't force you to kill them, I said nothing about letting them go."

He turned, aimed his hands, and unleashed a brutal barrage of lightning at the two children. Siri watched, horrified even through the numbing cold, as the children _melted_. Clothes caught on fire, skin bubbled, eyeballs burst, bodies spasmed. In a moment, both were dead in what had to be one of the most painful deaths Siri had _ever_ seen.

"Let that be a twofold lesson, apprentice," spat Sidious, "One, to never trust the words of another. And two, to not believe the easy path is not laid with traps. You thought by killing the parents you spared the children. Instead, you made their deaths agonizing instead of quick and painless."

"Bastard," hissed Siri, fury raging inside of her, demanding retribution for his deception.

Oh, and for the deaths of the children, that... that should be more important. Should have been her first thought.

"Each and every day, I will bring you before a selection of abductees, and you will kill them. If you do not, we will have a repeat of today's session. This will continue until I am satisfied in your willingness to kill," said Sidious coldly, "Am I clear?"

"Perfectly," she spat out.

"Perfectly _what_?" said Sidious.

Siri didn't gave him the satisfaction of calling him Master.

That didn't appear to phase him, as he instead raised his hands and unleashed another barrage of lightning upon her, sending her screaming to the ground. "Perfectly _Master_ is what you should have said. You will give me the respect I am entitled, or I will rip and/or beat it from you. Am. I. Clear?"

"Yes...," she gasped out, "...master."

The lightning stopped. "Good, good."

He stared down at her for a moment, frowning. "Your pain tolerance is pathetically low."

He turned and strode for the door. "We will need to work on that as well. Return to the training room and practice your Makashi, I will return tomorrow. I left you a... gift... to assist in with your training. I trust you will enjoy it."

Siri scowled at his retreating form until he was gone before rising to her feet wearily. "I hate that bastard so much."

She made for the door, pausing briefly to look back at the four corpses, mournfully at the children, before leaving. She strode to the training room, trying to flex her aching limbs. The moment she walked inside a warning flared in the Force; she dove instantly, the sound of something impacting heavily on the ground behind her was heard. She spun, sighting a droid with an electrified staff rushing at her. She swore under her breath and leaped back, hand reaching out towards a weapon's rack and calling a training lightsaber to her. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the gift was.

The droid came at her relentlessly, staff spinning and sparking as it swung at her. The moment she blocked she hissed as sparks sprayed and a jolt ran down the saber on impact. That was most certainly **_not_ ** a low setting. She was not interested in getting hit by... what was that whirring sound?

She turned her head, eyes going wide, as another droid came at her from her right, and another from her left...

A frenzied minute later Siri was on the the floor, bloodied, and screaming as the droids beat her down, shocking staves smashing into her over and over again. She curled into a ball, crying out with each impact. Her anger and fear and pain bubbled until the Dark Side burst out of her, sending each droid flying across the room three separate ways, smashing into the wall and crumpling to the ground, circuits sparking. Siri laid there for a moment, world spinning, ears ringing, black spots dancing across her vision, the taste of blood in her mouth. She shakily reached a hand forward and clawed the floor, pulling her forward.

One pull at a time, she made for the medical bay. Sidious... he wouldn't give her a moments break if she passed out and awoke there tomorrow. Had to... had to get this... treated now... had to... get to...

* * *

Sidious sighed and followed a small trail of blood down the hall. As an afterthought, he had decided to assign his apprentice more reading of the Sith Language and history and had briefly returned to give it to her. Judging by the pain he felt emanating from her-and the fact he just felt her fall unconscious, that wasn't going to happen. He didn't allow himself to be disappointed, or rather, not moreso than usual, as he came across her crumpled form, grabbed the back of her robe, and dragged her down the hallway.

"What am I going to do with you my apprentice," he mused, "Three droids shouldn't matter to you, highest setting and lethal weapons or not. The Jedi these days, they don't condition their young close to enough, not even a fraction of what I had Maul put through when he was half your age."

He glanced down at her wearily. "It going to take such effort to polish this jewel into a shining example of a Sith, to wipe away the dirt and grime, the Jedi's _filthy_ influence and weak training."

He strode into the infirmary and threw her to the floor, glancing at the medical droid. "Deal with _this_."

He turned and left, irritated. He had a meeting with his own _Master_ to attend, followed by the rest of the day pretending to be a wise old gentle caring Senator Palpatine. Force, he couldn't wait till the Jedi were dead, his Master dead, and he the Emperor of the first Sith Empire in thousands of years. He wouldn't have to hide who he was, for there was no sense of satisfaction in it. It was so pathetically easy to deceive the Jedi, no challenge at all. He had more difficulty with aged and wizened politicians.

Perhaps he'd briefly stop on the way to his Master and find a... release... to his frustration. The lower levels were after all full of those no-one would miss if they were found dead he next day. It was an endless supply of relaxation-the suffering and death of those beneath him, and as tools to further his apprentice's descent into the Dark Side, and eventual claiming of her Sith name. But that would be years away, he hadn't bothered trying to think of one yet for her. She needed to earn the right for him to even _begin_ musing on her potential tittle.

Musings for another day he supposed. He left the building, climbed into his speeder, and descended further into the lower levels, on the prowl...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Obi, getting hate he doesn't deserve. This has a purpose rather than just being there. Obi-Wan isn't going to end up exactly like his cannon counterpart, especially with the other Jedi causing a rift. Less code preaching, more mavericky like his master, and potentially other changes. Siri is getting more experience in just how cruel Sith training truly is.


	8. Numb

"Kill them."

Siri drove her master's lightsaber through the rib-cage of a young girl, right through the heart, and withdrew it, moving onto the next child quietly and doing the same. She did not wait for Sidious's empty praise, she simply moved onto the parents and killed them to. It was... better... this way, for them. A quick release, a quick death, rather than being fried to death by Force Lightning. She felt... nothing...

Nothing but the cold dark.

It had been _weeks_ of this. Her hands, once innocent and free of sin, were **_stained_ ** with blood. At first, it had hurt and twisted inside of her, but... she had grown numb to it. She simply... did the deed... and didn't look back. It was just another step in her pathway to her goal, to kill her Master. Had she honestly thought that learning at his feet wouldn't entail something like this? That she wasn't going to truly damn herself in the process?

Ignorant.

Foolish.

Young.

Naive.

This was just a taste of the depravity and madness she was going to have to mire herself in before it was all said and done. This was **_Sith_ ** training after all. She only hoped and prayed by the end of it there would be something of herself left to walk away from it all. She had no desire to wipe out the Jedi Order, as much as she was infuriated with them and their failings. They had grown so complacent and ignorant the last thousand years without the Sith _visibly_ active to combat and test themselves against. They were _weak_. But it was no excuse to kill them...

"Hmm," she heard her Master murmur, turning her head to watch him approach and begin to circle her.

He did that often, sizing her up, measuring her, and always finding her _wanting_.

She was rather surprised when he spoke, "Good, good. You've made progress, and progress should be rewarded, should it not?"

She silently stared at him.

He held out a hand, and she deactivated his lightsaber, handing it to him. He slipped it into his robes and moved to the door, the unspoken command 'come' echoing through the air. She followed behind him, as he led her down the hall and deeper into the facility, to a conference room. She froze in the doorway as she laid her eyes on an oh so familiar object on the table. A lightsaber.

Her lightsaber.

"I believe it's time you had a lightsaber of your own again," he said, levitating the lightsaber off the table and over to her.

She took it, holding it in her hands and glancing down at it. The lightsaber... didn't feel right in her hands anymore. The kyber crystal at it's core sluggishly identified her, but the connection she had to it was marred. Of course it would be, the lightsaber had belonged to a young girl filled with light, not this growing dark monster she was becoming. In order to use this lightsaber... she knew what Sidious wanted, he was going to teach her how to bleed a kyber crystal. But... somewhere deep inside of her, she couldn't bear the thought of it, of bleeding her old one.

"Yes," she said slowly, "But not this one."

He turned his dark calculating gaze on her. "And why not? Are you not familiar with this one?"

"This... lightsaber... belonged to a Jedi Padawan," she said slowly, not even acknowledging it as her own, "And I believe the last few weeks have made it abundantly clear that I am no Jedi, not anymore."

He smiled, a savagely cruel smile, "No, I suppose not. Come then, let us... dispose... of this old relic of your past, then I will guide you on how to bend a crystal to your will."

He led her down a chillingly familiar hallway, and into the prison area of the facility, straight to her old cell. He opened the door and motioned inside. She stood in the doorway, and took a single sniff, her nose wrinkling at the stench of the room. Force, she had ignored _that_ particular problem to all nine Corellian hells and back during her time there. It hadn't been like she had been allowed to use a fresher chained to the floor as she had been. She was only slightly surprised to see her old worn Jedi robes carelessly cast down in the room like trash. The chains were still there, shattered on the ground. The room... had been left untouched otherwise. She had a feeling it was going to stay that way for a long time, as a reminder to her of where she had come from.

She flexed her grip on her old lightsaber for a moment before tossing it into the room, the hilt landing on her old robes. With that, she turned from the room, hit the button to close the door, and didn't look back. She could feel Sidious's dark approval permeating through the air. He strode to walk in-front of her, taking up the Master's position, and led her to their dark meditation room, the place he had first taken her after being released from her cells. Lit by shadowy candlelight, in the middle of the room was a simple box of kyber crystals, unbroken ones. He had planned this then, had expected her reaction to her old lightsaber.

"Sit," he ordered.

He began to circle her slowly as he spoke, "The process of bleeding a kyber crystal is simple. One must bend it to their will, pour their anger, their hate, their pain into the crystal, force it to align to them, and dominate it. But be warned, a crystal will resist your attempts, some better than others. Weak acolytes failing to break a crystal have experience pain, mental damage up to and including madness, and even one attempt I read that had resulted in their ability to use the Force being damage to the point it might as well have been stripped from them."

Siri stared at the box of kyber crystals, a slight frown on her face. "I see."

"Let it never be said that the life of a Sith is _safe_ ," mused Sidious, "It is one of constant struggle and growth. To stagnate after all is to die. Now, watch and observe. I will do this once, and only once."

Sidious levitated a crystal out of the box and to his hand, gripping it tightly and-

_The Force around and inside the crystal screamed_

-and poured his hate into it, a tingling sensation running up Siri's spine as the dark side filled the air. A sickly and dark red glow emanated from within the crystal, like blood from an open wound, and _spread_. Within seconds, the entire crystal had turned red, sobbing and crying out into the Force around them. Siri felt momentarily sickened by the act, before she slowly shook her head and let it fade away. What was this compared to driving a lightsaber through an innocent?

Sidious fiddled with the crystal, twirling it between his fingers; she could feel him admiring his own handiwork, his own _domination_ of the kyber. "I have explained and shown you, more than I ought to of. Now, you will bleed the rest."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "The rest? I only need one."

He gave her a look. "Do not question me _my_ apprentice. You will bleed them all because I demand it of you."

She bowed her head and muttered a, "Yes Master."

"If you truly want a reason," he drawled, "It is because these are the only crystals I will ever give you for _free_. If you destroy them, or lose your lightsaber and have to replace it, these will be the only crystals I make available to you. If you run out, you will have to attain your own."

She made a face. "My lightsaber is my life, I know better than to lose it."

She had given up her old one simply because that life wasn't hers anymore.

Sidious paused briefly and then scowled at her. "Your life? Where did you get such a foolish notion?"

"It's not foolish, its what all initiates and padawans are taught," she said stubbornly.

Sidious threw back his head and laughed. "If that is a Jedi teaching, then I need to look into more of them for my own amusement."

The Sith pulled his lightsaber out of his robe. "This is a _tool_ , my apprentice, a _tool_. If your lightsaber is lost or destroyed in battle, do you simply give up and die?"

"Well, no," she answered.

"Your body, your fists and feet, can be used as weapons," he instructed, "Objects around you can be used as weapons. And far more important, the Force itself is the greatest weapon of them all. My lightsaber is a tool I mock with, a secondary weapon, because it pales in consideration to the power of the Force."

Siri went silent, face turning a little red in embarrassment. When he put it like that...

"That teaching is as foolish as it is absurd," said Sidious with disdain, "Perhaps they meant it as a lesson in responsibility, but if Jedi take it seriously at face value then they failed remarkably on the delivery, as they do on a Great. Many. Things."

He shook his head and glanced at the box of kyber crystals. "Enough of Jedi failings, bleed your first crystal."

Siri held out a hand, and levitated a crystal to her, letting it land softly in the palm of her hand. She could feel it curiously probe her, seeking to see if she was the one it desired to bond with. She stared down at it silently for a moment before she closed her eyes.. She felt for her hatred of _the beast_ that had killed her former master, and of Sidious himself. She let it whirl and churn within her. Almost as if the crystal could understand what was about to happen, its probe shrank back. Siri closed her fingers tightly around the crystal in a crushing grip...

And poured it all into the kyber.

The Force shrieked around her in outrage. The kyber pushed back against her, trying to stave off what was coming. But she didn't allow it, she revisited in her mind the moment her former master had died; the moment Maul had threatened to harm Obi-Wan. She fed off that pain and rage like a leech, and overwhelmed the crystal's defenses. She didn't need to see the red glow peaking under her eyelids, nor her Master's dark satisfaction and approval, to know she had succeeded. The way the Force cried around the crystal told her all she needed to know.

She opened her eyes and stared down at the red gleam spilling through her fingertips and slowly opened her hand. She didn't... feel the same way Sidious had when he had broken it in. There was no sense of triumph... just... nothing, at what she had done. She set the crystal down, and levitated the next one to her palm, and repeated the process. Each shriek, each cry from the kyber, affected her less and less, until she didn't even react to bleeding the last one. She piled them into the box and picked up, turning to stare look at Sidious.

His mouth twitched, either in amusement or irritation she didn't know. He simply strode past, and she followed. He led her deeper into the complex, farther than she had gone before, into a large room. It was a sort of workshop, tools and spare parts organized and stored. He walked around the room for a moment, taking his time, before motioning around him.

"Build your lightsaber from the parts around you, when you are finished, you will return to the training room," he said before pausing and then snidely adding, "Perhaps you can actually weather those simple training droids without having to drag yourself to the infirmary for once."

Siri let the insult wash over her and didn't reply. She kept her senses on him until he left the room, then, and only then, did she relax and start shifting through the various supplies. It had been a long time since she built a lightsaber, unlike many others, she didn't make a habit of losing her saber. She doubted she'd be needing anywhere close to even half the kyber her Master had given her. Still... having backups didn't hurt. As she gathered her parts, she contemplated how she was going to build her saber. Her thoughts briefly turned to Master Dooku, he used a curved hilt for Makashi, didn't he? Though, she wasn't anywhere near skilled as he was, so she probably couldn't even properly use that kind of hilt yet. A thought to hold onto for another time then.

Rather than carry them around physically, she levitated the bits and pieces around behind her. It was... kind of satisfying to do, to preform such a 'trivial' use of the Force as the Jedi would say and bemoan against. The Force was theirs by birthright, why not use it? Not to mention, practice made perfect, the more she used the Force, the more easier it would be to do so. Sidious could do things with the Force without having to even try, not having to focus his attention and reach for the Force, he simply just _did_ _it_. Learning and training to be able to use the Force like that was something she'd need to do before she could even think of killing him.

When she finished she found herself circling and eying the parts as they levitated in the center of the room, much like Sidious would circle her. She made motions with her hand, using the Force to begin to fit the pieces together around the kyber, encasing it in a prison of metal, where the only things that would hear it scream was the uncaring casing, and the one who wielded it. She made a beckoning motion with her hand, and the lightsaber obeyed, floating over. She flexed her grip on it tightly, eyeing the completed piece. It's metals were of a dark gray make, not the shiny silver often seen on the belts of a Jedi. Coupled with her black clothing, it certainly wouldn't give a friendly vibe, especially...

_snap-hiss_

...with the bloody glow now illuminating the room. She stared down at the red blade, a sight of nightmares for young initiates, and a sure sign of a darksider to a Jedi. She slowly shook her head, deactivated and attached it to her belt, and grabbed the box of kyber, making for her room to drop it off. Such a small thing like the color of one's lightsaber hardly mattered, it was just one more thing, one more step, down this path. It didn't matter, it didn't... didn't make her feel. She glanced down at the bled kybers again. Aside from their initial screams, from the shock of experiencing it for the first time... she felt nothing by being near their whimpering.

She didn't know what to make of that.

What she did feel as she approached the training room once more was growing irritation and frustration. She hated those damn droids. Makashi wasn't good against multiple opponents at once, it could be adapted sure, but it was made for dueling, not a melee. A real lightsaber instead of a training one wasn't going to make that much of a difference if she couldn't get a chance to get a hit in. It was... it was just a tool, not her life, not her only weapon.

She paused by the entrance to the room and leaned against the nearby wall to actually stop and think rather than simply walk in and face the music. Not her only weapon huh? Maybe that was her failing. Only relying on her lightsaber until she was so beaten she had to tap into the Force to survive and destroy her opponents. She nodded slowly to herself and felt into the room for her senses, pinpointing the small blips of energy that she took for the droids power cords. She identified their positions, two deeper into the room, and one...

It was hanging above the door again, ready to get the drop on her. She scowled and pushed off the wall, moving to the door and flinging it open. She reached out with the Force as she moved, gripping the training droid hanging above her tightly in her grasp, raising it into the air and then slamming it into the ground with a crunch in front of her. She activated and swung her lightsaber at the downed droid, severing it in half. One down, two to go, and she hadn't even taken a hit.

Her lips peeled back in a savage grin. "I'm going to enjoy this."

When the droids rushed her, she curled a hand into a fist and thrust it out, slamming one of the droids with the Force and sending it flying, impacting on the far wall and clattering to the ground. She engaged the single remaining droid with her lightsaber, finding it much more simple to fight one on one rather than three on one. She severed it's sparking staff in half before impaling it through the chest, withdrawing her saber with extreme satisfaction. She decapitated and kicked its head across the room for good measure.

"So you finally learned," came her Master's musing voice.

She turned her head to see him standing in the doorway. "More like I unlearned."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Ah yes, your 'lightsaber'. You put to much emphasis on it over the Force, one of the Jedi's failings."

She could feel he was rather pleased at that. It was something she noted, anytime she turned away from something she had learned as a Jedi, or spoke ill of them, or anything like that. It let loose such dark satisfaction and possessiveness from him, it was honestly scary when he looked at her in such a mood. Not to mention when he... oh boy... not this again...

He beckoned her over, and when she obeyed, he raked a hand through her hair, tendrils of the Dark Side raking across her shields and demanding access. She lowered them, and allowed him to express his approval through the Force, pouring pleasure down her mind. She stifled the moan before it escaped her lips. She hated it as much as she enjoyed it; having had time to think on why the hell he did it, she figured it was a kind of system to induce obedience. Do things he approved of, get rewarded, do something he didn't like, get punished. When she made that discover, it had _**grated**_. She was _**NOT**_ a _animal_ to be trained! Not a _pet_ aching for it's master's touch; she didn't give him that kind of satisfaction by voicing her reactions. Trying to stifle it through her mind and the Force was another matter unfortunately... a work in progress.

"Hmm... I do believe you've earned a bit of freedom," he mused.

A sharp breath escaped her lips. Freedom...?

"Shall we go for a walk my apprentice? It has been some time since you've been out," he 'asked'.

The analogy of a pet being walked by it's master flashed through her mind, sparking a whirlwind of contempt before she crushed it. She **_DID_ ** want to get out of this blasted place for awhile. "I would appreciate it, Master."

His lips peeled into a cold smile. "Good."

He turned and left, Siri walking quickly to fall in behind him as he spoke, "This will also be a test of your ability to hide your presence. For every person that truly sees you, you will be punished upon our return. If you are detected even somewhat through the Force should be draw near a Jedi, well, the Jedi will die, and your punishment will be most severe. Are we clear?"

"Yes Master," she answered, already moving to lock down her shields tightly and prepare herself to incorporate his teachings for a 'field test'.

"Good, good," he said, "I wish to take you through the lower levels of Coruscant, have you ever ventured there before?"

"No Master," she answered.

"Excellent," he said, dark satisfaction permeating the air, "Then you will have no Jedi Dogma or false explanation to justify what you see."

She frowned, what did he mean?

He didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask aloud. She followed him out of the building, which she saw was disguised a old decrepit warehouse on the outside. However, instead of breathing in fresh air and letting the sun touch her skin for the first time far to long, all she got was the stench and sight of gray smog. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, shaking her head slowly. This certainly wasn't going to be a trip she enjoyed, that much she already figured. She preferred being back inside with the filtered air. She knew better than to voice such whining though, and simply went silently.

They left the area, and descended into Coruscant's lower levels, into what Siri quickly noticed was a place of utter despair and depravity. Trash and scrap everywhere. Drug addicts walking around in a daze or hitting themselves up in broad daylight (or smoglight if she wanted to sound clever about it). Sidious stepped over a corpse on a side-street without even looking at it. People being mugged or stolen from. There was a public beating for someone not paying their 'protection money', and no one did a damn thing to stop it. Siri's temper and irritation steadily rose as they walked lower and lower into the depths...

"What the hell is this," she muttered angrily.

"Jedi neglect," answered Sidious without hesitation, "So close to their own temple, a few hours at most on foot, far less by speeder. And they don't care to solve any of this themselves."

Siri scowled and turned the topic back on him. "And you would? You don't give a damn about any of these people."

Sidious scoffed. "Nor do I pretend to. Are the Jedi not the defenders of life? Guardians of _peace_ and _justice_?"

He waved back the way they came. "If so, then what is this?"

She was about to respond before a heart wrenching scream sounded further down, coming from an alleyway off in the distance, "NO! PLEASE STOP!"

Siri hesitated for a moment, an old desire, and old drive, to serve and protect struggling to rise through the dark mire she was walking in. She glanced back at Sidious, and he slowly cocked his head. "You have the power to do as you wish my apprentice. Simply remember my earlier warnings."

She didn't wait for any further words, taking off to the direction of the scream, sidestepping bottom dwellers who didn't appear to give a damn about someone screaming their head off. By the time she arrived, it had quieted to sobs and cries and an odd smacking sound. Siri rounded alleyway entrance and froze up for a moment. Pinned to the ground was a thin Twi'lek woman, cloths ripped off, black and blues across her bloody face and arms. Behind her was a masked assailant, lower clothes off, hips smacking against his victim.

Siri's vision turned red with rage and disgust. She reached out on dark instinct, clenching her fist. The rapist stopped briefly before his hands left the woman's hips, going up to claw at his throat. Siri lifted him up with the Force and slammed him face first into the alleyway wall, grinding it in and bloody him. She ripped him back and slammed him into the ground before stalking over. She waved a hand at the terrified and confused woman who was staring at her attacker and sent a sleep suggestion into her mind. She was out like a light.

Siri stood over the rapist and made to grab her lightsaber before pausing. No, that weapon left distinct markings, and was far to quick a kill if she aimed wrong. This bastard had to _suffer_. The man groaned and started to rise to his feet. "The hell...?"

Siri kicked him to the ground and then crushed his genitals under her boot with one savage motion, electing a agonizing scream from the man. "If you can't use them properly, you shouldn't use them at all."

She wiped the blood on her boot off on his shirt, grinding them painfully into his ribs until she heard a crack and another cry. She stomped on him, again and again, crushing his limbs, breaking bones, and inflicting as much pain as she could. There was satisfaction, extreme satisfaction, and an outlet on someone who actually _deserved_ cruelty and pain for once, rather than an innocent. Oh... it was so therapeutic. Blessed, _blessed_ , relief.

"I don't have all day apprentice," came her Master's irritated voice.

Siri scowled, leave it to Sidious to ruin her fun. She moved her boot to the man's head, applied as much pressure as she could naturally and then a bit with the Force, and crushed it like a fruit. She fed willingly off the death, letting it fill her with an _oh so_ satisfying buzz. She wiped off her boots once more and then moved to join Sidious at the entrance of the alleyway.

He didn't spare the victim a second glance let alone a first, but his mouth twitch in amusement at the corpse of the rapist. "My, you are a viscous little thing aren't you, my young apprentice? It's a shame you don't show that side of yourself more often. Perhaps I should allow you more ventures down here. A thought for later I suppose. Come."

He wasn't silent this time as they walked. "I would not care about these people, in that you are correct. But I never offered to be their protector, as the Jedi did. As the Republic did."

Siri's eyes narrowed slightly. The Republic? That was the first time he had ever bothered mentioning the government to her.

"Do you deny that both swore responsibility? To guide and protect the citizens that live within this republic?" he asked.

"No," she answered, "No, I don't. This... this is purely disgusting. Would it honestly take that much effort to do something about this? A team of Jedi a day, some volunteers from the public, a speech from the senate... they could fix this. It might take a bit of effort and time, but this suffering... is needless, its pointless, there's no purpose to it."

"There is no order," agreed Sidious, "While I wont deny something like this would most likely still exist, many of these worthless maggots could at least be put to work in basic jobs to fuel an Empire, or enlisted into an army."

"And Empire?" she asked, confused.

"A dream of the Sith," he whispered, _hungrily_ , "A Sith Empire that spans the galaxy."

And in order for a Sith Empire to rise, the Republic and the Jedi would have to fall. She saw the purpose to this 'walk' now, to warm her up to the idea. Yet... she couldn't help but admit he had some points, this all was just... it was to much, to just walk down the streets and see so much needless suffering happening in broad daylight with no one caring...

They should care...

They should be _**MADE** _ to care...

With a firm hand to direct them on how to act, how they should live, since they _obviously_ couldn't do it for themselves...

Can't forget punishment though, there were already laws in place against so much that she saw here, if they stepped out of line, they had to be put back into their place...

Sidious said nothing more that trip, that night. He slowly led her back to their complex, allowing her to take in the sight of all the depravity once more, before leaving her. She did not get to sleep anytime quickly that night, laying awake, troubled thoughts struggling to decide what would be worse, something like a Sith Empire, or allowing the Republic and the Jedi to continue such neglect... but perhaps instead of either... how about something of her _own_ designs...


	9. Practical

"There is more to a Sith than pure power in the Force or ability with a lightsaber, often times fighting yourself is a complete waste of time when you can instead bend a person to your will, intimidate or threaten them into compliance, blackmail them, or do a _favor_ for a favor," instructed Sidious as he paced around Siri in their dark candlelit meditation room, "But it must be done without revealing yourself for who you are, or if you must, kill or wipe the minds of those who know after."

"So... you trust no one with your true identify?" she asked.

A thin smile that played across his lips. "Generally not unless I mentally bind them to me. The Sith did not stay out of the Jedi's sight by revealing ourselves unnecessarily."

She couldn't help but gawk. "Mentally _bind_ someone? It's possible to do that?"

Sidious chuckled darkly. "Oh yes, to dominate and enslave someone's mind to you is an advance skill of the Dark Side. It must be done with the uttermost care. If you press to much, you can shatter their mind and render them useless, to little and the binding can be made vulnerable and be broken. It incurs in those dominated an unfaltering loyalty, they are unable to willingly disobey you even if they wanted to, and will look past the most brutal of crimes, rebukes and even punishments, if only to please their Master."

Siri frowned thoughtfully. It... it should have seemed disgusting to her, she _knew_ it should of, but... to make sure she couldn't be betrayed, to have someone she had made force-ably countable on...

"And before you ask, no, I have not done so with you," said Sidious dryly, "It is not advisable to use on one's apprentice, as dominating and engulfing their mind with the binding will weaken their potential."

"I didn't think you had," said Siri snidely, "Otherwise I couldn't hate your guts the way I do."

Sidious bared his teeth, a hissing laughter escaping his lips. "Ah, there it is, you've been to quiet these last few weeks, I was wondering where that bite had gone. Still..."

Lightning ripped from his hands and drove her to the ground. "Know your place my young, foolish, blue-eyed apprentice."

Siri ground her teeth, biting back her scream, until he finished. "Hmph, your tolerance is growing, good, you were much to fragile when I took you in."

Took her in? Hah, right, as if he had been _kind_ in doing so. "That's one way to put it."

He sent another jolt of lightning, but spoke almost fondly, "Insolent little thing. Rise, and walk with me."

She fell in step behind him, waiting patiently for him to speak. She recognized suddenly that they were heading for the exit, he was taking her out of the building.

"These skills I mentioned, some come naturally, some must be practiced and learned," said Sidious, "You will do so today. I want you to intentionally put yourself into situations, dangerous ones, and attempt to find a way out of them that doesn't involve your lightsaber or crushing someone into the ground with the Force. Whether it be intimidation, manipulation with the Force, offering to do something for them, or even seduction, the choice is yours."

Siri chocked a little. "S-seduction?!"

He glanced back at her briefly. "Being born female does have _some_ benefit in certain situations. You are young and not unattractive, your body can be a great weapon if you choose to use it."

"Y-you've got to be kidding me," she said, "I'm under-aged for one thing!"

"And?" he said, "Some people find that all the more enticing."

"No, karking, way," she spat out in disgust, "That's one line I'm **_not_ ** going to cross."

Sidious chuckled. "If you say so, you will learn one day, my young apprentice, such _trifle_ things as laws or lines mean nothing for a Sith in pursuit of their goals."

He led his infuriated apprentice to the door of the facility and motioned out. "Go, and remember that no one is to remember your face, nor are you to encounter any Jedi. You have until sunset, I will be watching."

Siri huffed a little and strode out, drawing up her hood as she went into the smog and down into the festering hellhole that was the Coruscant Lower Levels. She understood what Sidious had ordered, and what he had not said. He was giving her 'free reign', but he was going to watch how she used that 'freedom'. If she acted in anything like to a Jedi, she knew she was going to be in for it. He hadn't admonished her for saving that rape victim last time she was out awhile back, but that was probably because she had absolutely brutalized the rapist and murdered him with a savageness that impressed him...

She scoffed to herself. "Acting like a Jedi? A Jedi wouldn't be caught dead down here actually _helping_ someone."

Besides, helping any one individual down here wasn't going to do anything in the long run. Having a lasting impact would require something far more than putting out little bush fires on the outskirts of the raging inferno the mess of the Republic was. It would require doing something about the senate; Sidious had ' _so graciously_ ' given her read-only Holonet access. She had spent a lot of time reading up on the government and its horrifically corrupt and ineffective Senate.

She had asked Sidious once just how they stayed in the senate when they did nothing of real value. How was arguing the price of karking fruit for five hours (she had actually watched that entire debate once out of morbid curiosity and disbelief) relevant to their job? How weren't they voted out of power for wasting taxpayer money and doing nothing? There were disasters both natural and created all around the galaxy they could be addressing, but they only ever saw the senate floor if an effected senator brought it up, and probably to leech money or popularity off the relief effort. And Force forbid if it was an Outer Rim planet, because nothing was going to get done for those so far from the Core.

His answer had been simple: Complacency. It had been like this for so long everyone was used to it, they didn't expect it to change, and did nothing to change it. The mindless masses didn't particularly care about the Republic or the Senate unless they meddled specifically in their affairs. Of course corruption had an effect to, being able to bribe or threaten your way into office and stay there was another reason. He had told her well over half the Senate was complicit in something illegal. So very few actually did their jobs right and actually cared.

Not that Sidious cared about that, he found the whole circus hilarious. Siri half thought he wanted to control the Galaxy just to make them dance to his tune for his own amusement. Siri knew that while something needed to be done about the senate and the failing Republic, Sidious as Emperor of the known galaxy was **_NOT_ ** the answer. Only those with his favor would truly benefit, the masses would either stay the same or suffer.

 _ **SHE** _ would be better. She'd make things better, she'd force people to live the _correct_ way, to _her_ designs. Crime and disorder would be _wiped out_. There would be no more pointless suffering, no more corruption and complacency. The Senate would definitely be the first thing to go. With her at the head, and no worthless senators wasting entire sessions for the few times they actually were in session arguing about pointless things, things would get done so much faster.

Which was another issue she had with the Senate. They got paid obscene amounts of money to hardly ever show up at the senate. Most of the time when they weren't in session, they were pursuing their own re-election or personal interests. Force, if she had her way, all the corrupt ones would be public ally executed, and the ones that actually did their jobs would be elevated. After all, she's was just one person, and only one person couldn't manage an entire government herself, she'd need people to delegate to.

She nodded to herself, an eerily greedy gleam in her craving eyes, a twisted smile on her lips. "I'll be the greatest Empress this galaxy have ever seen, and all will love and adore me."

But that was later, _much_ later, she still had to kill Sidious, and figure out how to circumvent the issue of the Jedi. If she miraculously reappeared one day in Public Office, she was sure they'd be knocking down her door to either arrest or kill a fallen Jedi. Though, she had made note and did a search: Using the Dark Side _wasn't_ illegal, and neither was being a Sith. The Jedi could seriously shoot themselves in the foot if they tried to arrest her for having done nothing wrong (to their knowledge).

Food for thought she supposed, there were _plans_ that could be made out of that.

Regardless, here and now, she had a lesson to practice. She pulled herself out of her thoughts and found herself deep in the lower levels. She paused and took a brief look around; there wasn't much. A corpse here, a dead-beat drug addict completely out of his mind laying against a wall twitching uncontrollably, litter everywhere, a few rough looking individuals eying her and making their way over...

Oh, yeah, great job Tachi, a young, apparently defenseless young girl traveling alone into this area was looking for trouble. Guess she had found her first test without even trying.

"Lookie here," said a decrepit ugly bastard, giving her a look over, "What's a pretty little thing like you doing down in this dump?"

She tilted her head and shot back, "Taking a walk, what's yours? To karking ugly to get a job?"

The man glared at her and reached a hand forward. "Watch it you little bitch!"

She grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand, breaking his wrist and forcing him to his knee's in one fluid motion. "No, you watch it. I'm minding my own damn business, so should you unless you want to find an early grave."

She turned her hooded head to glared at those watching. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Girl thinks she's tough shit," one of them muttered, but made no move forward.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" roared the man on the ground, reaching his good hand behind his back and coming out with a blaster.

She drove a knee up quickly into his chin, snapping his head, stunning him, before spinning and slamming the back of her foot into the side of his head, knocking him out. She turned her heat and shot a warning look around her, making those to close back off.

She reached down and grabbed the blaster, pocketing it within her robes. "For my troubles. Unless anyone else has any objections to me taking a stroll and wants to end up like their friend here, I''ll be on my way."

None of them made a move to follow physically, though their eyes did warily. She was an unknown variable in their area. Regardless, she considered that a test in physical discouragement and threatening. She let a smug smile cross her face, having put the trash in their place. Still... she didn't really think she'd find any other way to really test herself down here that wasn't thuggish.

She wandered the streets, keeping her eyes and senses open. But there was nothing about petty robbery, murder, or extortion that she saw. There was some part of her, deep down, that wanted to immediately help, but she forced herself to glaze over it. Finding nothing worth involving herself in, she closed her eyes and carefully reached out to the Force to lead her...

...and let out a small gasp when she felt a world of difference to what she remembered. Had this truly been the first time she had sought out the guidance of the Force after falling? She had used the Force sure, but this... it swirled in suffering and desperation down here. Life was etched into this place, the Living Force around her was _dark,_ tainted into the streets, the people, the buildings. She had been in awful places like this a few times during her few Padawan years off on distant planets, but she had never felt it like _this_. She had been blind to it... blinded...

Blinded by light.

Having stepped intp the Dark Side, she was a part of the shadows, they were not hidden from her. She could see down here what the Jedi in their lofty temple did not...

So, she reached out for the Force... and felt the Dark Side greedily shove the feeling of this place into her, trying to pull her in a thousand different directions with a thousand different opportunities. It demanded she obey, she could see in her minds eye herself being led further and further down, gripped in it's grasp... dragged along like a puppet to it's will...

Siri shakily moved to a nearby wall and pressed her head against it, breathing in and out in shuddered breaths as she felt the dark try to take her again and again. She tightened her mental shields, but that did nothing. This was the Force itself flowing through her, not another person trying to dominate her mind. She remembered then, one of the first lesson's Sidious had given her...

_But be warned, it will challenge us constantly, seek to influence and bend us to it's will. That is why to be a master of the Dark Side, you must dominate it._

Dominate, or be dominated...

So she reached out for the Force, felt the dark hungrily latch onto her and try to bind her...

Only for her to clench her 'fist' into a stranglehold, holding the Force down as it began to writhe against her grasp, barking and biting and howling at her, snarling and snapping like a wild animal. Siri shuddered again, but didn't release. Instead, she forced a thought into the Force.

_Where might I find a challenge to test myself?_

The growling of the dark slowly abated as she tightened her grasp and ask- _demanded_ it answer her.

And it did.

Unlike the light that had once felt like a friend taking her hand and leading the way, the dark was like a bloodhound that liked to snap it's master and pull on it's leash. She followed it, not deeper into the lower levels, but farther into the same level. The bloodhound was eager, but also growled in warning. It glanced back at her and grinned as if asking, 'danger, do you dare tread'?

A sense of thrill jolted down Siri's spine. 'Of course'.

The Dark Side receded, an almost sinister, ominous laughter echoing through the Force.

Siri came back to herself as she entered through what looked to be a private warehouse district in the lower levels. She frowned, she felt something... dark... in the area, a person, but definitely nothing like Sidious. Nothing like a Jedi either, it wasn't a Dark Jedi. It was... elusive... oddly natural in the dark, and aware of her if what Siri felt was right. Strange, her shields were up tight, how could she be detected? Maybe the Dark was better at finding things that were hidden...

"Hmmm? Is this the one you're talking about?" came an eloquent voice.

Siri turned her head to see a man standing by the entrance of one of the warehouses. He was dressed eloquently, with a magnificent orange and yellow coat with little round blue gems embedded in it. He had a purple turtle-neck underneath, with straps wrapped around it and a belt connecting the two halves of his garb. He had blue eyes, wavy blonde hair, and a strong set face.

The man basically screamed rich pretty boy, though that he was down in a secluded warehouse in the lower levels suggested something illegal...

"Yessss," came an almost hissing, raspy voice, "The presence that echoed in the dark."

Then Siri's eyes shifted to his companion, and went wide.

Standing behind him, half hidden in the shadows of the doorway, was a woman unlike anything Siri had ever seen before. Yellow eyes filled with the dark, incredibly pale skin, black and white facepaint, long brown braided hair, a gold jewel hanging down on her forehead from her hair. She bore black and white robes covering her upper body, save for the lower parts of her arms, revealing muscles that were nothing to sneeze at for a lady. Her legs were mostly bare, save for her robes which hung down from above almost like a winding cloak. She had feathery pauldrons on her shoulders, stretching out behind her. In her hand she held a drawn vibrosword, fists clenching on it tightly as her yellow eyes bore into Siri.

The dark was laughing at Siri again as the woman sized her up, the warning of danger rising steadily. Siri didn't know who or what this woman was, but if it came down to a fight, Siri didn't think she would come out of it unscathed, if at all. She had wanted a situation to test herself on, but this... could get her killed. This woman was not to be trifled with, not with what training Siri currently had.

The woman smiled a sharp smile, flexing her grip on her blade. "What does a feckless worm of the dark seek here?"

The man glanced at the woman, eyes furrowed slightly, as if surprised she spoke, before looking back, hand resting on a blaster on his hip. "Yes, it is most unwise to wander into the territory of the Black Sun."

Siri blinked a few times and cocked her head. "What is the Black Sun?"

The man had a look of disbelief on his face, looking back on his companion, who studied Siri. Siri hissed quietly when she felt a rake across her mind, as if her mental shields were not even there, before the woman spoke again, "She is ignorant of your work, she did not come here for the shipment you are waiting for. She is not here for _you_."

Siri decided to take command of the situation before they could deduce anything else, and told a... not quite a lie. "I felt your presence and was... curious. I've never met or felt someone like you before."

It was a lie in that Siri hadn't felt her before the Dark Side had released her, but if she had, she would have been curious anyway.

The woman bared her teeth. "You should be careful, little moth, in drawing to close to a flame, less you get _burned_. A Nightsister is not known for her mercy nor compassion."

Siri tensed briefly, danger rocketing down her senses. Did she attack? Stand fast? Threaten? Flee? Or... downplay?

Siri took a hesitant step back, as if afraid, and that made the Nightsister's smile widen, as if in delight.

The man however merely rolled his eyes. "You can terrorize children in your spare time Mighella."

"A child for now, but not forever," hissed the Nightsister, pointing a bony finger, "The dark clings to her hungrily, steadily suffocating what light remains. She has the potential to be dangerous."

That only made the man smile. "Jealous are we Mighella? I happen to like dangerous women."

The Nightsister scowled, but went silent.

"Still, we're on a timetable," mused the man, pulling up a sleeve to check a watch before glancing at Siri, "Care to make yourself useful?"

"I'd rather be on my way," she began, "But I'm going to assume no is not an answer you will take."

The man smiled. "Ah, we've just met and you already know me so well. I don't like unknown factors just wandering into my territory. You will make yourself known, and useful, or I will have one of my ten snipers put a hole in you, I have no qualms about having a child killed if need be."

A scowl crossed Siri's face as she reached out with her senses, feeling-yes, there were beings ontop of this warehouse, and other buildings, whose attention was on her, with deadly intent. "Very well."

"Good, come," he said, turning and making his way into the building.

Siri followed in behind him, the Nightsister walking at her side, sword _still_ drawn. "Make any foolish moves little moth, and they will be your last."

Siri didn't bother responding.

"It is common courtesy to introduce one's self, I am Alexi Garyn," introduced the man, "You are?"

"Bant Eerin," she lied smoothly.

There was a slight scoff from the Nightsister, no doubt feeling it was a lie, but no other comment.

"Well, ' _Bant_ ', let's get underway shall we?" he said, leading her into a room full of various thugs and lowlifes, "We have a shipment coming soon, your going to help us unload and deliver. Prove yourself useful, and maybe I'll have a job for you. I'm generous like that, willing to take in kids off the street."

Despite the situation, Siri's lips twitched in amusement. "I have my own place to stay."

The man flashed her a grin. "Do you? Well, as long as you show up when I ask, then I don't particularly care. If I have to have you hunted down, well, it won't end well. Now, why don't you take off that cloak? It's not good to work in such heat with such clothing."

It wasn't particularly hot, but, she wasn't going to do anything to irritate him. Though, she knew Sidious was going to give her hell for this. She pulled back her hood and took off her outer cloak, setting it down on a box.

"Mmm, I question your taste in clothes," Alexi playfully jabbed, "Full on black leaves much to be desired."

Siri smiled thinly. "Not my clothes nor my choice."

There was a slight raise of an eyebrow, and an unasked question, but Siri didn't acknowledge it. She instead glanced around the room at the gathering of baffled thugs, their gazes going back and forth between Alexi, her, and the Nightsister. This definitely wasn't a common occurrence. "You often make a habit of investigating potential dangers when you have a bunch of people to do it for you?"

Alexi laughed. "No offense to my men, but Mighella is more dangerous than all of them combined. I was in no danger, especially from a pretty little thing like you."

She narrowed her eyes. "The last person to call me that got his arm broken for his troubles."

Wrist actually, but arm sounded better.

"I'm _trembling_ in my boots," he mocked before turning. "The shipment should be arriving soon, come come."

The group followed in behind him into a loading dock and waited. While they waited, Siri decided to... 'keep up her act', shooting the nearby Nightsister curious, but wary glances. Finally, she inched close and asked, "What's a 'Nightsister'?"

Mighella eyed her. "Now why would I tell you?"

Siri scowled and crossed her arms, 'acting' _(not really acting if she had to admit)_ like a child who hadn't got her way. "Hmph."

The Nightsister sneered at her, but didn't respond. Siri didn't need the Force to detect the woman's displeasure, but beyond that, she could feel a subdued tint of unease, of wariness, of confusion. ' _Where did this dark child come from?_ '

Siri wasn't inclined to answer the unspoken question, even if the woman had asked it. Still, the woman wasn't arrogant enough to completely write Siri off, all the more important to not give any reason to make her suspect more than she did. To her, she was just a 'little moth', a girl who dabbled in the dark. In reality, well... okay that wasn't to far off, she hadn't been under Sidious even a year yet, but she did have a lightsaber hidden up her sleeve to drive through the woman's back if it came down to it.

Siri's eyes flickered up as a humming noise filled the air and a nondescript ship flew down through the open loading dock, a man jumping out as it touched down. "Delivered as requested boss."

Alexi nodded and motioned his men forward. Siri followed suit wordlessly, eyeing various wooden crates in the back of the ship. It was probably some sort of contraband. She didn't honestly care, maybe if it were drugs that would ruin lives... but even then, it was the fools on the street's fault for choosing that life.

_Even if they had lost everything?_

Siri frowned at the compassionate thought and brushed it off. There was _always_ a choice, even if the offered choices were all garbage. She lifted boxes with the rest of them, setting them down towards the back of the loading dock and...

"Watch it you imbeciles!" came Alexi's sudden cry.

Siri turned to see a pair of men lifting a larger and heavier box stagger, perhaps having missed their foot, and pitch forward, the box flying out of their hands. Siri reached out and caught it with the Force, letting it float there for a moment before levitating it over to the rest of the pile.

Alexi stared at her, eyebrow raised, before glancing back at Mighella. "She has the Force?"

The Nightsister didn't look amused. "What did you think I meant when I was talking about a dark presence within the Force? Or when she talked about feeling my presence?"

Alexi momentarily looked abashed before clearing his throat and adjusting his collar. "Well, to be fair, I'm not exactly well versed in matters of the Force. I thought you simply meant a mass murderer or serial killer or something."

Both... weren't exactly off considering the time Sidious had ' _weaned_ ' her from her Jedi tendencies with the slaughter of the innocent. She wasn't planning on telling them, though she had a suspicion the wouldn't honestly care. Scum, every one of them, they chose their life, Sidious had forced this one down her throat...

_Isn't there always a choice?_

Siri scowled darkly at the thought and moved for the ship again, irritated enough to reach out and grasp the rest of the crates with the Force and move them herself. "Am I done?"

Alexi tilted his head in thought, eyes narrowed at her. "Hmm... a second Force Sensitive under my employee would be a boon."

"I'm spoken for," she said dryly.

"Oh? And how much are you paid?" he asked, a fake smile plastered on his face, "I'm sure I can outbid on your services..."

"I'm afraid she's not for sale."

Oh dammit...

* * *

"I leave you for but a few hours on your own, and you seem to have found a mess to throw yourself in."

Of course, they didn't need to know that had been what he ordered of her. To be frank, Sidious hadn't planned on revealing himself as he watched his apprentice go about her day until the end, however...

Alexi Garyn... was an interesting opportunity, and Sidious _was_ an opportunist as much as he was a schemer. Garyn was a rising star in the Black Sun, soon to become their Crimelord if rumors were to be true. Having his apprentice within the man's midst could be useful, both as an instrument to influence him, or to kill him if need be. Sidious was not blind to Alexi's 'friendship' with King Ars Veruna of Naboo, who his own Master was starting to grow irritated with. If Ars choose his side poorly, he could imagine the would-be crimelord being killed for his foolishness. With a bit of guidance though...

Rather than having to ravage the Black Sun in a few years, perhaps they could be brought to heel...

It would be an interesting first true mission for his apprentice, though he hadn't planned on one for some time. She wouldn't return to the Jedi, not having fallen, not having killed innocents, but to try and go rogue? If he gave her the chance to slip away, he wasn't sure at this juncture if her growing hunger for the Dark and her desire to kill him would keep her planted. Still... his apprentice needed practical experience, and she would be sure to get it within the Black Sun. Considering their forte, he could envision his apprentice getting her hands quite bloody and dirty during her time there...

He paused his thoughts, feeling the Nightsister trying to slip by his shields. He held up a hand and lifted her off the ground, clenching his fist slowly and closing off her throat, watching her float and choke for a few satisfying seconds. "Now that was unnecessary and rude little Witch. My mind is not a place someone as meek as you should tread."

He threw her against a way with a flick of his wrist and slowly strode forward, watching the nearby men back away, Alexi steel himself, and even his apprentice lose a few beads of sweat down her forehead. Her _visible_ forehead. He had no doubt she hadn't been given a choice in the matter from the Nightsister, but he was a man of his word. When they were finished here, there would be punishment for letting her face been seen. Though if this opportunity panned out, he may lessen it.

A little bit, not by much.

His mouth twitched in amusement before he folded his hands into his robes and stopped next to his apprentice, gaze locked on Alexi. "What exactly do you have in mind for my... ward?"

He placed a oh so ' _loving_ ' hand on his apprentice's shoulder and felt her shiver under his grasp, to his delight. She feared him far more than she hated him, and he was going to make sure it stayed that way for a _very_ long time.

Alexi noted the shiver, the fear Tachi tried to hide behind her eyes, but said nothing of it. "Well... I can imagine quite a few ways I could use someone of her talents if you are willing to rent her services."

Sidious smiled a ' _benevolent smile_ ', a warning to not waste his time. "I am listening..."


	10. Out In the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/Note: Going to try something different this chapter. A huge mix of time-skips and short stories.

Siri didn't like to admit it, but, she had fantasized a few times about escaping Sidious. In her dreams. In her waking moments. Somewhere inbetween when she was laying half dead in the infirmary from training or his punishments. It didn't really matter, name the state of consciousness and she had desired to be free of him.

This was _not_ what she had meant.

He might not be in sight, might not be even on the same planet, and her not in that same old compound anymore, but she still felt like there was a chain around her neck that he could yank her back at a moments notice. Swore she could feel his presence in the back of her mind. Not to mention the orders he had given to Alexi and his pet Nightsister to kill her if she tried to escape. And if somehow she did flee the Black Sun, Sidious would find her, and be most _displeased_. There was no freedom here, just another prison.

"The Force shall free me my ass," she muttered to herself.

The only way she was ever going to be free was simple, and what she had wanted from the beginning, and still infuriatingly what Sidious himself wanted.

"Two there should be; no more, no less, one to embody power, the other to crave it," she whispered to herself clenching her fists tightly. _  
_

Sidious's death couldn't come soon enough if _this_ was how he wanted to waste her time.

She shook her head and from her 'perch' leaning against a wall on the far side of the room, turned her head to eye Alexi, drinking wine with his fellow Vigos of the Black Sun on some pleasure yacht. They were in a casino room, gambling and drinking and who knows what else. She had been introduced as his new 'bodyguard and enforcer'. She couldn't for the life of her remember the other Vigo's names, she didn't honestly care. They were high ranking drug lords basically, they belonged crushed under her boot, not partying with her standing watch. Still, Sidious's orders had been simple.

Do whatever Alexi wanted so long as it didn't harm the machinations of the Sith _(as if she knew anything of Sidious's actual plans)_ in order to gain influence over Black Sun and lean them in the favor of the Sith. As such, she was on 'loan' to the Black Sun for roughly a year, unless Sidious so desired her return, and if the Black Sun wanted her services afterwards they would have to contract her out on a mission by mission basis.

She pursed her lips and shifted her focus, eyeing Mighella who stood protectively behind her employer and wondered how she wasn't bored out of her mind. Siri sighed softly and closed her eyes, stretching out for the umpteenth time with the Force to sense for any danger...

...and was rather surprised when she felt a tint of malice in the air. Her head turned sharply, focusing in on the sensation, spotting a waiter balancing a serving tray of wine as he approached the gathering of Vigos. Siri pushed off the wall and made her way over, noting both Mighella and Alexi's eyes shifting briefly in her direction to let her know they saw her.

The waiter began handing out wine. "Compliments of the House m'lords."

Siri reached the group and caught the man's hand just as he began to hand out Alexi's glass. "Hold it."

The group of Vigo's paused, those with new glasses of wine paused with the cup to their lips.

Siri focused her senses, vileness emanating from the glass in his hands; a cruel smile played across Siri's lips. "I think such a hard worker should have a drink first."

Her eyes flickered to Alexi. "Don't you?"

Alexi glanced briefly to Mighella, who eyed the glass for a moment, eyes narrowed, before she nodded.

The man's lips twitched with amusement as he turned back to Siri. "I suppose that 'the help' deserves a reward ever now and then."

His eyes flickered to the waiter. "Go on then. Have a drink."

"B-but that would be such a waste m'lord," stammered the waiter.

Alexi drew his blasted and rested it on his shoulder in warning. "I insist."

The waiter hesitated for a moment before downing the glass. Siri was... a bit surprised that nothing happened. She knew what she had felt...

"N-now if you'll excuse me m'lord," said the waiter before trying to leave.

"Nonsense!" said Alexi with a charming smile, "Someone pull up a seat for our good friend and let him rest his weary bones. I would hate if he were to suddenly _drop dead_ later on after being on his feet for so long.

Oh, later on, a slow acting poison. That made sense, the waiter wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere nearby when it happened. Siri moved to grab a chair and set it behind the would-be-assassin, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to sit with a strength he obviously didn't expect. She stood behind him and kept her hands on his shoulders in a tight grip. She'd been looking for some amusement, and she wasn't going to let it slip away.

The Vigos resumed their gambling while the waiter squirmed. Siri waited patiently, ten minutes, twenty, thirty-there! She could detect the first hints of pain were starting to blossom in the man's gut. Within minutes, his face had started paling, he started hunching over, hand cradling his stomach.

"My good man, are you alright?" asked Alexi with almost-believable concern, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look like you've been _poisoned_."

The waiter said nothing, his breathing growing labored.

Alexi set down his cards on the table and stood up, slowly walking over, a thin smile on his face. "Now, my good man, let's drop the charades shall we? Hmm?"

The waiter nodded.

"Judging by how quick you wanted to leave earlier, I'd say you have the antidote somewhere, no?" asked Alexi, looking down on the man.

Again, another nod, and a slight gasp of pain. There was blood leaking out his lips.

"You are small fry," said Alexi, "You wouldn't plan this on you own, who wanted me killed? Tell me and I'll let you go."

A lie, but Siri hardly needed the Force to know that the waiter wasn't leaving the room alive.

"T-the Crimelord w-wants you gone," stammered the waiter, "H-he didn't hire me directly, but it was o-one of his c-captains, so..."

"So the trail is evident, though it allows him deniability," snarled Alexi, drawing his blaster-

Siri quickly sidestepped out from behind the man.

-and putting a bolt through the waiters head.

Alexi scowled deeply. "I was willing to let the older bastard retire alive, but if this is how he wants to play it, it would seem we will be having a change in leadership sooner than anticipated."

He glared around the room. "Party is over boys, we've got work to do."

And with that, the boredom ended, and Siri left the room with an eager grin...

* * *

It had taken far to long for Siri's taste to get to this point. Over a month of gathering and posturing for what would have been as easy as marching in and just killing the bastard. But noooooo, Alexi had wanted to _press a point_ , to show that he was more ' _beloved_ ' to the Black Sun. He just had to go and usurp control, convert, or destroy as much as his predecessor whatever-his-name-was's followers, bases, and resources as he could prior to the confrontation, and then waltz in like he owned the place after the current ( _soon to be former_ ) head of the Black Sun's own men turned on him and opened the door.

...

Okay, Alexi was _good_. She could see why Sidious might be interested in gaining influence over the Black Sun's soon-to-be Crimelord. He was thorough and efficient, intelligent, charismatic, and while he could look and act like a charmer, he was _deadly_. Those directly under him, he made deadly; he'd shown her the ropes of 'how things worked' for the Black Sun. Siri could grudgingly admit she approved, almost liked the guy. She wouldn't want to be on his bad-side, and if she was, she'd be forced to kill him, _quickly_ , far to dangerous to leave him alive.

The Nightsister was a walking stiff, that opinion had formed and wasn't going to change anytime soon. Always so uptight and watchful... though Siri couldn't exactly blame her. Sidious had made her nervous, afraid. Those yellow eyes were always carefully gazing on her throughout the day. Siri had the notion the Nightsister might actually know what Sidious is, and by extension, what Siri was being trained as. She had made no comment of it though. Siri also still had no real idea what a Nightsister was supposed to be, a race, a faction, a title, whatever. It was kind of vexing to be honest...

_**BANG!** _

Siri refocused as Alexi put a blaster bolt through the front of the former-crimlord's head and then crossed her arms. Hopefully things would be picking up from here on in...

* * *

The one really annoying thing about all of this, was that no one who hadn't seen her use the Force or kick someone's ass took her seriously, at all. While technically that was a good thing, it made people underestimate her, it grated always being looked down upon as a young foolish teenager. She wanted to be respected, or at least given basic common cutesy. Those who couldn't even give her that, like this thug under her boot, needed to be-

**_CRUNCH_ **

-punished.

Siri lifted her boot off the corpse's crushed head and wiped a bit of the blood off on his shirt. "The new Crimelord has been very generous by offering you a smooth transition into his services despite your loyalty to the old one. If you can't respect that, or his envoys, then you will be conscripted or eliminated, are we clear?"

There was a fearful chorus of 'ayes' and 'yes ma'ams', electing a small grim smile from her. "Good, now someone clean up the trash and get a report of your stock, supplies, and manpower ready for me to take back to the Crimelord, and make it snappy."

She made her way towards the exit, pausing briefly when someone whispered, "Kark, just a kid yet she's cold as hell, didn't even flinch. What hell did Alexi dig that psychopath out of?"

Siri frowned briefly, glancing down at her bloody and gore covered boot, before muttering quietly to herself, "A Sith hell."

She left the room, brooding. A psychopath, was that really what people saw her as now? There was a time, not so long ago at all, where she'd never have done that, even considered killing someone so brutally, if at all. Was this truly just the work of Sidious? Or... deep down was she just a monster like him? A beast that her Jedi training had kept in line until it was taken off the leash...

* * *

"We don't have the money! I've already taken up a second job, it's just to expensive!" exclaimed a begging man on his knees.

Siri scowled, was this really what she had been reduced to? Being a thug? "That's not my problem, it's yours. You should have known better than to go into debt with the Black Sun unprepared to deal with the consequences. If you can't pay in money, then we'll take what you own as compensation."

"I-I have almost nothing left from the last collection!" exclaimed the man, "Please, it's just me and my daughter, if you take anymore, we'll be on the streets!"

"Boys, the house," muttered Siri irritably, motioned the Black Sun thugs behind her inside.

The man wasn't kidding, there was barely anything inside. Even the furniture was bare-bones run down. What a bother... she hated doing these 'collections'. She'd rather be back standing around watching the Vigos gamble. They didn't have money, their meager personal items weren't going to cut it, so...

"You're going to have to work for the Black Sun then to pay off your debt," said Siri, "Either that, or we kill you."

The man's face paled.

There was a yelp and then a screech as one of the thugs grabbed the man's daughter and dragged her out of her room. "Yeah, you both be workin for the boss. And you little lady, we got a nice place for cute things like yourself, the boys will enjoy you, heh heh heh."

"Get your hands off my-guuuhh...," began the man before one of the thugs knocked him to the ground with the blunt of his blaster.

Siri took one look at the terrified girl's face, knowing the fate that awaited her, then looked away. She had made the mistake of passing the pleasure slave's quarters once. It wasn't... it wasn't Siri's problem, it was the father's for being an idiot and dragging his daughter down with him. Still... she'd really rather be anywhere but here...

* * *

"I thought I sensed something for a moment Master, I must have been mistaken..."

Siri's heart was thumping like crazy as she hid behind a trash compactor in a back alley. Apparently, word had gotten out that the Black Sun had a Force Sensitive doing their dirty work. And Jedi being Jedi, would investigate anything they deemed dark or inappropriate use of the Force. She didn't know the pair, and didn't care to find out who they were. She carefully double checked her masking before she reached out and knocked over a trash can on the far end of the street with the Force. The pair of Jedi whirled away, and then Siri bolted at top speed infused with the Force, drawing her hood up as she ran.

"Stop!"

If she had a hard time listening to Master Galia, let alone Sidious, these random Jedi didn't have a prayer at getting her to obey. She could feel a hint of persuasion through the Force, but didn't even acknowledge it, allowing it to slip and slide off her, unable to get a grip through her shielding. She wasn't going to use the Force in anything more than neutral ways, and even that would be kept to a minimum. She couldn't let them get any hint of her presence, because if they did, then shared that memory with someone like Yoda, she'd be identified in a heartbeat.

She pulled out her comlink. "Someone needs to get a ship ready pronto, we've got Jedi here."

There was a curse before the voice on the other end said. "Right, five minutes and I'll have the ship warmed up."

"If you take off without me, I will hunt you down," was all she said in response, shutting the comlink off.

Escape was her only option. She had trained in her spare time, but, not as heavily as she had since she left Sidious. She didn't think she could take a Jedi Master or Knight yet. Regardless of that... she didn't want to fight or kill a Jedi. Not unless she absolutely had to. Not to mention Sidious's reaction would either be praise or punishment, and she wanted neither from him.

Siri ran into the main street, rushing into a crowd and slipping into their midst. While perhaps she could simply mingle in and lose the Jedi that way, she didn't trust the ability to mask herself fully, not to mention the black cloak she wore kind of gave her away to the Jedi. Sidious's previous apprentice, _the beast_ , had failed in his shielding after all, Siri had sensed him. The quicker she was off the planet, the better...

* * *

Siri lazily laid on a couch in Alexi's personal yacht's lounge, on the table in front of her an ice cold beverage of some kind; she didn't remember what it was called, but it was blissful. Why did the bad guys get such nice things? She had never had something this soft as a Jedi; she could distinctly remember a lump in her old bed back at the Jedi Temple that always gave her back aches in the morning. Force, the Jedi should invest a bit in comfort, if only to make their numbers more relaxed before going off on a mission.

Or during down time like she had now. Though, it was more like 'lay low' time. Had been for awhile, Alexi had her on logistical and internal duties rather than out on the field after that incident with the Jedi. Laying down crunching numbers on a datapad was a rather nice way to spend the day, rather than being brutalized in training, or have to basically be a thug for the Black Sun.

"Ah, there you are Tachi," came Alexi's voice as he strode into the room, the Witch at his side; he raised an eyebrow at her. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Having something this comfortable should be a crime," was all she answered.

Alexi laughed. "Well, considering where our money comes from, it might be. Speaking of which, what are today's numbers?"

She flicked the screen and began rattling off profits from different worlds, groups, and individuals one by one. It irritated her, to no end, to see just how many Senators and other government employees, both Republic wide and more local, were either on the payroll of the Black Sun, or being extorted by them. Was there no government not corrupt? It just affirmed in her mind that the Republic had to go, it was rotten to the core, no pun intended. Or maybe so, the Core was the worst after all.

"Hmm," mused Alexi after she finished, "It would seem things have finally stabilized after I took over. Good, very good."

He made an about face, "Well, I'm off to the Jacuzzi, I'll leave you two ladies to have some bonding time."

Siri exchanged glances with Mighella; they both snorted, electing an amused chuckle out of the Crimelord before he left.

"So... what's a Nightsister?" asked Siri for the umpteenth time.

"Whats a Sith?" shot back the Witch.

Siri raised an eyebrow. "You actually asked it, I didn't think you would."

"In case you haven't noticed, I am attached to my Lord most of the day. The chances we have had to converse alone have been none-existent, and the less he knows about the Sith, the more likely he is to survive," said Mighella irritably, approaching to stand on the other side of the table looking down at Siri.

Siri's lips twitch in amusement. "Fair enough, but I think you already know the answer to your question, and my Master is interested in gaining affinity with Alexi, not killing him."

Mighella grew thoughtful for a moment before frowning. "Why you then? I recognized what your Master was the moment I had the unfortunate ' _pleasure'_ of meeting him. You don't have the kind of disposition I'd imagine from one of your kind."

Siri gave her a lazy smile. "One, I started my apprenticeship... a little over a year ago I think, I'm still new. And two..."

Her smile turned sharp. "You haven't seen me truly angry yet. I killed my Master's former apprentice when I fell."

Mighella's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Impressive."

She tilted her head in thought. "You were a Jedi before, weren't you?"

Siri frowned. "How do you..."

"It's still in the way you hold yourself, in the way you train, sometimes in how you act or speak," said Mighella, "I imagine it will stay with you for some time before it slowly fades away."

"You're point being what?" asked Siri.

"Do you regret it?" asked the Witch, "Falling?"

Siri said nothing for a minute, slowly working over her own thoughts in the matter. "I... regret that someone important to me died, that if the Jedi even knew I was alive that I would be shunned and rejected. I regret many of the things Sidious has made me do, and will make me do in years to come. But the Dark Side itself?"

"No," she admitted, "I don't. I... am not unaware of how it changes me. That I think things I've never thought before, done things I never would have before, how I can look past cruelties. But that... that's a natural thing honestly."

"Natural," said Mighella, not a question, a statement, an interested gleam in her eye.

"Take animals, they act on instinct, without regret, even in things that seem cruel and savage," said Siri, "It's the same with the Dark Side. It's the Sith that twist and turn it into something more sinister, at least that's what I think."

"You'd be surprise how much my kin would agree with that," mused Mighella before refocusing, "You disagree with the Sith, with what you are being trained to be?"

Siri's gaze turned dark, her voice a hushed, cold whisper. "I hate Sidious with every fiber of my being. I will kill him one day. Whether I take his place, dismantle the Sith, or turn it into something different, remains to be seen."

"Ambitious."

Siri grinned; she hadn't even told her about the desire to become an Empress. "Just a little."

She sat up. "So, you going to actually answer my question or what?"

Mighella sighed. "The Nightsisters are a sect of Dathomiri witches who embraced the dark arts..."

* * *

"...and levitate that final piece there, snap it all together, and..."

_snap-hiss_

"Excellent," said Siri, watching as Mighella flourished her newly crafted red lightsaber.

"Mmm, Mighella, have I ever told you how much red suits you?" called over Alexi from the far side of the workshop.

The Nightsister flashed a predator grin in his direction. "Flattery on a Nightsister of Dathromir?"

"It's what won me your services," said Alexi nonchalant.

"You putting a blaster bolt through the back of your targets head without so much as a flinch was what drew my interest, my services came after watching you work," shut down Mighella.

Siri snicked. They were the oddest pair sometimes.

"Ah, I remember it now, it was a dark, rainy, awfully humid day on Dathromir, chasing down people running from their debts to the Black Sun...," began Alexi.

"Can you not?" groaned Siri.

"Come now, this is half the fun in having you around," jested Alexi.

Siri rolled her eyes and turned to the Nightsister, "Now that I helped you make a saber..."

She grinned. "Up for a spar?"

* * *

"...but I'm feeling _oh so_ generous today, I'll let my dear friends decide what to do with you sorry lot," said Alexi with a falsely-sweet smile.

Siri stood to one side of him, Mighella on the other, as he looked down upon a group of goons that had bungled the most valuable shipment of spice the Black Sun had tried to sell in years (or so Alexi had said). It had been worth literally millions of credits, and they had apparently lost it to actual legitimate authorities not on the Black Sun's payroll, shocker there. She could feel Alexi's rage, it was _intoxicating_ , how he hadn't put a bolt through the fools heads yet was beyond her.

"Siri, Mighella, what do you think? Shall we come up with something... creative?" said Alexi, his smile growing deathly sharp, almost ghoulish with his fury starting to bleed through.

For a moment, she let her mind wonder, thinking of various ways she could pretend each and every one of them were Sidious before killing them in excruciatingly painful ways...

_Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?_

Siri paused at that inner voice, it wasn't the first time and it wasn't going to be the last time she heard it. Yet... it wasn't her own anymore, instead belonging to a hauntingly familiar voice from a certain boy... _Obi-Wan_...

She pursed her lips, irritated. Her conscience was getting creative, and _underhanded_. Force... she hadn't allowed herself to think of Obi-Wan in months... what would he think of her now, about what she had done since they last met?

"Killing them outright would be wasteful," said Siri slowly, drawing _a look_ from both Mighella and Alexi, "They can either get back the shipment they stole, or die trying."

There, that was a fair enough second chance.

"Mmm, and what if they tried to run?" questioned Alexi.

Siri raised an eyebrow. "There's no where they can run from the Black Sun, or, you can put a tracker in them if you really want to."

Alexi stared at her, eyebrows furrowed. "Generous of you indeed. Very well..."

He turned to the goons. "Make no mistake, if you run, or return here empty-handed, you will regret it. Succeed, and you'll earn my _forgiveness_."

Siri turned to leave as the goons began to praise Alexi and thank him for her mercy, drawing up her hood as she went. She could feel the Nightsister's eyes on her, but didn't acknowledge. She retreated to her room and sat against the wall in the corner of the room, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"Obi-Wan," she murmured quietly to herself.

* * *

"You've been moping for weeks dear," said Mighella.

"I am not mopping!" said Siri.

"I beg to differ, now come, Alexi gave us the day off, and you are coming with me to the masseuse," said the Nightsister.

"What's a masseuse?" asked Siri, confused.

The woman sighed and shook her head. "Right, former Jedi, they never gave any comforts, did they?"

"Not in particular," answered Siri, interest starting to grow, "What is it?"

"Come and see," said Mighella.

Half an hour later, Siri was in pure bliss, laying down on a table wrapped in a towel and having the 'Masseuse' rub her back. "This is so good it should be illegal..."

Mighella snorted from her own table. "Didn't you say that about the couch?"

"Mmmm," was her only response, closing her eyes and laying her head down on the nicest pillow she had ever had.

She laid there for awhile, immensely enjoying the rub down, before she murmured, "Hey Mighella?"

"What?" answered the Nightsister.

"I never knew mine, what is your homeworld like?" asked Siri.

Mighella seemed to loose herself in thought for a few minutes. "Where I lived, the world around me was covered in thick forest. Swampland was rampant; infested with insects and other dwelers of the bog..."

"Sounds wonderful," Siri mocked playfully.

Mighella bared her teeth. "Even the insects knew better than to bite a Nightsister."

Siri turned her head towards the woman and made a biting motion.

Mighella snorted in amusement. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. Dathomir is a lush world; holding a dangerous beauty to it. I could get intentionally lost for hours roaming the woods."

"Intentionally?" Siri asked.

Mighella shrugged. "To simply enjoy my world, to give myself time and space to think on my own, rather than just pace a room."

"Fair enough," said Siri before refocusing, "Did you have family there?"

"All Nightsisters are part of a Clan," said Mighella, "I belonged to one led by Mother Talzin, who I dare to say is amongst the greatest of the Nightsister Shamans."

"Why?" asked Siri.

"Because she actually gave a damn about her clan," said Mighella, "Not like that bitch Zalem who fancies herself Queen of the Nightsisters that she would run into the ground. No, I don't imagine it will be more than a decade before she's disposed. Talzin, she would make a fair leader of our people."

Siri nodded slowly, "I see."

Mother Talzin eh? A name Siri decided to store away; the woman could one day perhaps be useful.

"And what of you?" asked Mighella, "Do you know the name of your parents?"

Siri pursed her lips. "No. Jedi don't believe in ' _attachments_ ', I don't know who my parents are nor where I even came from."

"Do you want to know?" asked Mighella, "Alexi could probably find out for you."

Siri allowed the idea to linger for a moment, a brief one, before dashing it. "No. Not so long as my Master lives."

"Oddly specific," stated Mighella.

Siri bared her teeth. "Sidious would probably kill them as some sort of sick lesson to me. The Sith don't believe in attachment any more than the Jedi do, as a weakness instead of a danger."

"You disagree?" asked the Nightsister.

Siri went silent for a moment; allowing herself to think of Obi-Wan, of her dead Jedi Master, her old (former) friends at the temple, and even Mighella and Alexi at this point. "I think they're the only thing worth living and fighting for..."

* * *

Siri's lightsaber was a blur as she surged down the hallway, slicing through Cartel members, leaving a burning trail of molten orange behind her gouged into the walls and floors, body-parts scattered around. Siri didn't know who the hell thought it would be a good idea to try to kill Alexi when he had so graciously invited them into his home, but they were dead meat. Alexi was _hers_ , Mighella was _hers_ , and no one killed those who belonged to her.

Alexi had been proposing some deal or another with the Xrexus Cartel, led by some blond/red tipped woman named Xev Xrexus, who Siri personally thought was a snake. She had felt something underhanded going on, but Alexi had waved it off, something underhanded was _always_ going on.

She came up to an ajar door to the conference room, deactivated her lightsaber, and peeked in, spotting Mighella standing in-front of Alexi, lightsaber bared, against ten goons and four unusual droids aiming blasters at them. They had blue shields surrounding them, stood on three legs, and had twin blasters, one on each arm. They looked nasty.

"...ome now Alexi darling, surely you can agree that doing this my way would be the more favorable outcome," said Xev Xrexus, "You get to keep your pretty little face where it belongs, and I get a cut of the profits, surely you can agree mmm?"

Alexi scowled. "Do you always make such lovely first impressions _darling_?"

Xev flashed a smile. "I try. Now, I believe your choices are slim at the moment, so shall we cut the deal?"

Yeah... no.

Siri stepped into the room, reaching out with the Force to grab the droids, lifting them into the air, and crunching them into balls. They landed on the ground, drawing the baffled glances of the Cartel members, at least until Siri activated her lightsaber.

"You've just made a big mistake," warned Siri, reaching out with the Force to flick off the lights, the red glow of her lightsaber giving her a deathly appearance.

"Siri dear, leave Xev alive, we need to exchange _words_ ," called out Alexi.

Siri flashed a grin, and _moved_. The screams started and ended within a minute before she had the now terrified woman kneeling on the ground at saber point. Siri waved a hand and turned the lights back on, kicking away a corpse that was a bit close for comfort.

"Shavit," swore Xev, "You've got a Dark Jedi as well as the witch? That's just not fair darling!"

Alexi smiled a dangerous smile. "Nothing about our trade is fair, now, if you want to leave here alive, we're going to be renegotiating that deal..."

* * *

"Here, catch" called out Alexi.

Siri freed a hand from the datapad she was working on, held out a hand, and caught whatever he had thrown at her. She finished the number crunching she was doing before sitting up and glancing down at the object. A ring...?

"Uh... I'm flattered, and Garyn is a good a name as any, but I like Tachi more, and I'm a bit young to be married," said Siri.

Alexi barked out a laugh. "Oh Tach, _look at it_."

She did, inspecting it closer and... _oh_...

It was a ring with the crest of the Black Sun on it, a special kind that only the Vigos and the leadership of the Black Sun wore.

"You might not be a Vigo, but you've earned your keep and proved your worth ever since you got here, so wear it with pride Tachi, you've earned it," said Alexi before moving closed to kneel next to her, his voice lowering, "And if you need our help in offing that old bastard of yours, just ask."

Siri froze for a moment, eyes searching his, before taking a dangerous tone, "You have little understanding of just what that would entail."

Alexi raised an eyebrow. "As much as you and Mighella seem to think I'm oblivious, I am not. So let me let you in on a little secret. The only reason I didn't end up in your old Order is because I was to old to be trained."

Siri blinked a few times in disbelief before reaching out with the Force...

"You're Force Sensitive," she said, chagrined she hadn't noticed in all the time she had been here.

"Mhm, had a dream as a kid to become a knight, but lo and behold, Jedi only want you if they can baby snatch you," said Alexi with distaste, "So, I turned my talents to other, lucrative, pursuits."

"I'm aware you were a former Jedi, one Siri Tachi, padawan to Adi Gallia, both assumed dead," he continued, "I did my homework on you. That old scary bastard of yours though, I have no info on him, but I can guarantee based on what little I can feel with the Force is that he is no mere Dark Jedi. He's Sith, isn't he?"

Siri snorted. "And here Mighella thought she was keeping you in the dark to keep you safe."

Alexi rolled his eyes. "She's very protective, also, don't dodge the question."

"Yes, he is, and do you understand just what that means? What you promising to help me one day kill him means?" she asked.

"It means, that I'll be partners with the next Dark Lord of the Sith," said Alexi, "It's the way things work with you Sith, correct?"

"For now," she said evenly.

Alexi held out a hand, offering a shake...

...and Siri took it.

Oh yes, the Sith had gained the Allegiance of the Black Sun, but it was to _her_ , and not to Sidious...

And didn't that make her smile a deadly smile, because it was just the beginning. Sidious had mentioned off and on, about having extensive networks of those in his pocket across the Galaxy. She'd need her own before she moved against him and his down the line.

"Alexi," she said slowly, "I personally don't care about the stupid aging rule. If not for Sidious, I'd offer to teach you what I know, not to be a Sith, but in general of how to use the Force. If Sidious found out that I had taken anything like a disciple however, he'd kill you, perhaps even order me to do it."

"Something to think about down the road then," said Alexi.

"Something indeed," said Siri, taking her hand back and slipping the Black Sun ring on her finger...

* * *

Life in the Black Sun wasn't nearly as bad as Siri had thought it would be, if one could look past what exactly the Black Sun did that is. The months had flown by, both before and after she had turned the duo of Alexi and Mighella into a trio. She rather enjoyed it to be honest, to actually have people she could call friends again. She felt an odd... possessiveness for them, and kinship. They were both dark in their own way, but certainly no Sidious. So, her kind of dark.

She really shouldn't have been surprised as she was when it came to an end.

Siri had walked into her unlit room and flopped down with a sight, another day done, only for her comlink to sound, she sighed and picked it up, turning it on, only for a cold voice to ring out, "Have you enjoyed your little vacation my young blue-eyed apprentice?"

Siri bolted upright, heart skipping a beat for a moment at the sound of Sidious's voice, before she schooled her expression and suppressed the spike of fear. "I'd hardly call it a vacation."

His response was the sound of lightning cackling in his fingertips echoing down the comlink. "Report."

Siri scowling briefly, before she answered, "I'm as good as a Vigo right now, and in Alexi's good graces."

"Good, good, is he open to suggestion?" questioned Sidious.

"What exactly is the suggestion?" she asked.

"That he break off his dealings and 'friendship' with Ars Veruna," said Sidious, "It would be in both his and our best interest."

Who in the nine Corellian hells was Ars Veruna?

"Pass on the suggestion, then return to Coruscant, I have a... mission for you," said Sidious.

Oh... Siri had a bad feeling about this. "As you wish."

Firs though, she needed to do a bit of research...

* * *

Alexi gave Siri a skeptical look, glancing up from the datapad he was looking at sitting at a table. "Now, why would I break of my oh so 'budding' relationship with the King of Naboo? I've been working on him for awhile now. I had hoped within the decade that his planet's plasma reserves would..."

"Those reserves will do you no good dead," said Siri, "Sidious ordered me to tell you to break it off. If you don't, I know what order comes next."

Alexi narrowed his eyes, Mighella shifting behind him warily. "And here I thought we were friends."

"We are," said Siri, "That's why, as your friend, I'm telling you to do it. I can't cross Sidious with only a year of training under my belt, I'm not even close to ready. He will order you killed, and I cannot defy him. Take the offered way out, there will be other opportunities."

Mighella cleared her throat. "It would be wise not to cross her Master."

Alexi tapped his finger on the table. "Hmm..."

He sighed, leaned back in his chair, rubbed his eyes, and waved a hand. "Fine."

Siri felt a wave of relief rush over here. Good, he actually listened. She opened her mouth to speak before pausing and cocking her head.

_Change change change_

The Dark Side swirled with hungry potential. Something danced across her sight, to quick to really see, but there were brief images and flashes of Alexi and Mighella on various worlds and ships, doing... doing _something_. Damn... she didn't have experience with visions, how to interpret them, how to pull them to her. She knew what had flashed across her mind was important, she just couldn't see or understand why.

She shook her head and cleared her throat. "Sidious has recalled me to Coruscant as well."

Alexi pouted. "Leaving us so soon Tachi?"

"He did say a year, no more, no less," pointed out Mighella.

Alexi glanced up at the ceiling. "Hmm... oh I suppose I can let you go. I'll miss the laziness and lack of efficiency though."

Siri gave an amused smile. "Love you to Lex."

Alexi scowled. "Lex? I shot the last guy who called me that."

"Good thing I'm a girl then," she said cheekily.

Alexi snorted and waved his hand. "Off with you then."

She nodded to both of them, not truely saying goodbye, and left. They were **_hers_** , and she had little to no intention of ever letting them go baring a heavy betrayal on their part. She would see them again, all to soon...

* * *

Siri stared silently at the compound down in the lower levels of Coruscant, brooding. After roughly a year away, she really didn't want to be back. She shook her head and strode inside, there was no point putting it off. She walked inside, and the moment she did, she felt a ripple of dark energy through the Force, a not-so-subtle nudge that Sidious demanded her presence. She moved silently through the halls until she found him, sequestered away in their meditation chamber.

"The time has come my apprentice," said Sidious, slowly turning to face her, holding out a datapad, "For you to take your first true step on the path of the Sith."

Her eyebrows furrowed, she . "I haven't already?"

Sidious lips peeled back into an amused smile. "Do you truly think that merely embracing the Dark Side, killing a few innocents, and working for a criminal organization for so short a time truly qualifies you? Oh no my poor foolish apprentice, you still have so far to go."

He motioned to the center of the room and she walked forward, stopping there, watching as he began to circle her. "First and foremost amongst the Sith is our age old conflict with the Jedi, and you have yet to kill your first."

Siri's heart plummeted. "You want me to kill a Jedi."

He circled to her front and fished out a datapad from his robes, handing it to her. "Fret not, I've chosen a 'retired' one, far before your time. _Surely_ to old and weak to be a threat to you."

Somehow, she doubted it; she took the datapad and began to read. "Siolo Ur Manka...?"

Why did that name sound vaguely familiar? Wait...

Wait, seriously?! "You're crazy! I know who that is, some of the old Masters still talk about him. He was one of the most renowned Jedi back in his day, amazing with a Lightsaber, skilled with the Force, wise, and cunning. There is _no way_ I can beat him in a fight."

Sidious radiated disapproval. "Still in the mindset of a Jedi, always thinking with your lightsaber. This is why I chose this Jedi now, rather than as a test of your skill later in a few years. There is more than one way to kill an opponent than simply stabbing them with a blade, Apprentice. If you cannot learn this, then you are no more use to me than as a sharpened tool; unworthy of becoming a Sith, and learning the secrets and powers of the Dark Side."

Siri went silent.

"In the datapad is his location, and all relevant information I could find on him, you have three months to kill him, I don't care how other than it is not with a Lightsaber. If you fail that, and I am forced to clean up your mess, my displeasure will make itself known in ways you have yet to experience. Are we clear?" he said in a deadly tone.

"Yes Master," she whispered.

"Good, now get out of my sight," he spat.

Siri fled the room, dread bleeding through her body; both at having to kill a Jedi, and wondering how she could possibly be expected to kill _this_ one...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know, Siolo Ur Manka was a retired Jedi Master (a male Twi'Lek) who Darth Maul was sent to kill in an unspecified year prior to ~32by. He kicked Maul's ass, stupidly didn't kill him (Jedi), and then Maul came back and killed him with some double-bladed trickery. I think he appeared for like... 1 comic, we have little info on him, so... yay! One-shot character to use and build on as I see fit!
> 
> Anyway, going to try another method of story telling this next chapter too.
> 
> It will be told from Siolo Ur Manka's Point of View, we won't have access to Siri's thoughts/feelings except what the old Jedi feels and sees from her. ^_^


	11. First Fracture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it never tells us the name of the Planet Siolo is on, I'm changing Jentares from the System to the Planet.

_Hope or Death | Light or Dark | Rise or Descend | Potential or Danger | Change..._

On and on the Force sang to Siolo Ur Manka in ways it hadn't since his time as an active duty Jedi Master, perhaps not even then. It left him... not uneasy, but wary. Something was going to happen, was coming, and he was at the center of it. He looked down into a puddle next to where he was meditating at the foot of a giant tree on Jentares. His aged green face looked out at him in the reflection; so old and wrinkly. He had came to this planet closing in on a century ago as he entered his older Twi'Lek years to find peace until the Force claimed him.

It would seem the Force had other ideas.

He was far past his prime, but still considered himself one of the best the Jedi Order had to offer. Not out of arrogance or pride, but out of experience. Yet... he closed his eyes and knelt down, falling into a meditation. Rapid images assaulted him, of himself and... someone, a dark blur, sitting at a campfire, not fighting, simply talking quietly. Days shifted into nights over and over again; the dark blur changed as time went on, sometimes brighter, sometimes darker, within it an immense battle for a lost soul was fought. The vision shifted back, further and further, from the ground, to the trees, to the sky, to space, to the entire galaxy, brightening and darkening as the dark blur did.

He slowly opened his eyes as day became dusk; what was coming was not a conflict to be won with his skill with a staff nor the Force. Beyond that, the Force's warning was clear. Whatever happened was going to affect the fate of the Galaxy...

He sighed. "I am far to old for this..."

* * *

Roughly a week later, when night began to fall as he was tending to his garden outside his secluded hand-built cabin, he felt eyes on him. He did not pause, nor give any indication he was aware of it. He simply kept on weeding, checking his vegetables for ripeness, plucking those that were ready and setting them into a clay bowl. He moved to his unlit campfire, grabbing flint and tinder he always left there, and set about igniting it to start a stew.

His aged hands turned the vegetables in his hand, peeling away the outer skins before letting them drop into a water filled bucket kept over the campfire. He let it begin to simmer to a boil before going back inside and to his cellar for a bit of preserved meat to toss in. He returned and did so before sitting down to wait.

The feeling of eyes on him never left while he was outside. He closed his eyes and let himself take in his surroundings. Not probing for anything specific, but just taking in the Living Force around him. He could detect... fear, anger and uncertainty. Yet also hope and determination. Underneath that... as if shoved and buried down, shame and guilt.

What an odd mixture.

He made no move to acknowledge or seek out whoever was watching him, nor let them know he was aware. He ate his dinner and retired for the night, the sensation of being watched fading away. He did not sleep, at least not right aware, allowing a few hours to pass to see if someone would try to sneak in. When nothing happened, he let himself lightly drift off, trusting the Force to alert him of potential danger...

* * *

The eyes came back the following day, and the day after that, always watching, but never approaching. Siolo pondered it, while he was patient, perhaps he should give an invitation? That night, when he fished his stew out, he grabbed a second clay bowl, filled it, and set it at the other side of the campfire.

There was a brief stirring of surprise, and then chagrin along with self-reproach. But no one came out of the surrounding forest. Still... he left the bowl out, as a peace offering, not to mention whoever it was had to be hungry, the eyes had hardly left him all day.

Come morning, the bowl was empty. Siolo smiled softly and shook his head, bemused, picking the bowl up to clean later. That night, he made the same offering, this time, with results. There was an air of hesitancy in the area, a roiling of fear, so much fear; whoever it was, they were _afraid_ of him. It left him at a loss; he never wanted anyone to feel that kind of fear towards him.

Slowly, a figure came into the campfire light; he caught sight of a black robe, hood drawn, and his heart sank. No servant of the light wore anything like that. And this close... while whoever this was kept their presence impressively masked (but oddly not their emotions), Siolo could feel the Dark Side emanating from them. He kept his reaction hidden, and instead made a motion to the bowl. There was a brief flare of hope from the figure, before they sat down opposite of him, and grabbed the bowl, slowly beginning to eat.

The Dark One had not attacked him, so he would not attack them.

He studied it briefly before returning to his own food. The figure was slim and somewhat short. That either limited it down to certain races, or perhaps someone young and not fully grown. He was not rude and did not attempt to probe the figure with the Force, and instead contemplated the array of emotions he felt. Judging from the lack of control... someone young then. And, if he had to guess, recently fallen. Perhaps a former Padawan. Why come to him though?

"Have you a name young one?" he asked.

The figure paused, and he squinted, catching sight of a pale and smooth neck, an adams apple bobbing nervously; so a human then.

"Iris," a young female voice answered.

Her answer rang... somewhat false, perhaps incomplete in the Force. She did not either trust to give her true name, or her full name, it was hard to tell which with her shielding. "I assume you already know who I am if you sought me out."

"Master Siolo Ur Manka," she answered.

He slowly shook his head. "I haven't been a master in a very long time young one, in over seventy years. Which, begs the question, why have you come to an old man like me?"

She didn't respond right away, taking a few bites and swirling around her soup; he didn't need the Force to know her anxiety. "I... I need help."

Siolo paused his own eating. "In what regard?"

"I don't... I don't want to be like this anymore." she whispered, loss overtaking her voice, "But... I... can't find the light."

Siolo closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "I see."

He had helped his fair share of lost Padawans back onto the right path. But there was a world of difference between them and her. They had merely dabbled in the Dark Side, perhaps given into a fit of rage and anger once, or suffered a great loss, not truly lost themselves. They merely needed a bit of guidance to find their way home. This one however? She was firmly wrapped in the Dark Side; she was Fallen, and those like her never found their way back. Or rather...

He could never once recall any of them trying.

It made him wary of a trap of some kind. And yet... his visions from last week echoed in his mind. If he turned her away, there would be no hope for the child. If she was honest in why she was here, then he recognized why she had come to a secluded retired Master. He was more than aware the general policy for those who had Fallen; if she had returned to the Jedi Order, she would be isolated and imprisoned in a Force Suppressing Cell in the depths of the Temple. The Council was rarely lenient in such things, and while her seeking out help might have been looked on favorably, she was still Fallen. She had done things to warrant the darkness clinging to her.

Bound to a cell for the rest of her life; stripped of the Force; or having a Jedi watchdog for the remainder of her days. None of those prospects would be appealing to someone like her.

He reached for the Force, asking guidance, but all he received were whispers of what it had sang to him before. He rubbed his chin slowly, mulling over the request before he came to a decision. Retired or not. He was still a Jedi, he could not turn away those in need.

"What you seek is something I am not sure I can give," he stated honestly, watching her head droop in resignation, "It is not something that has happened since the days of the Old Republic, during the wars with the Sith, and even then was an extreme rarity."

She looked up at him, surprise echoing around her. "So... it is possible?"

"Perhaps," he said, "But... in general, it required an immense will of those that wished to return, and the aid of those who cared."

Her lips turned thin, displeased, scorn emanating from her. "Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny."

Definitely Temple born and a Fallen Padawan then. "Hmm, Master Yoda is quite set in his ways. It is however far easier to simply not fall then claw one's way back."

Iris went silent for a moment before asking quietly, "You're not talking about Revan, are you? Does it really count if his mind was wiped? That who he was, was ripped apart by the Jedi at that time?"

Siolo could admit, he was impressed. "You are well versed on your history young one. But no, Revan was not the first, nor the last to turn from the Dark Side. Albeit as you implied, the method used on him left _much_ to be desired."

"You don't agree with what was done?" she asked, curious.

"Who you are as a person, is a sacred thing," said Siolo solemnly, "To take that away from someone, to strip them down and remake them to your liking, is an _abhorrent_ action, something I will never agree with."

It took him a moment to get a grasp on the flurry of emotions emanating from her. Surprise followed by confusion and bafflement, at him, slowly morphing and settling into respect. "How would you have handled Revan then?"

Siolo slowly shook his head. "I could say what I think I would do, however, I wont. Because, placing one's self into an impossible situation and saying how you would act or what you would do is foolish young one. One cannot know the answer, nor their true self, unless they live it themselves."

He gave her a wry smile. "In doing so I avoid placing unreasonably high expectations on myself."

He caught a hint of a hesitant smile in the campfire-light. "Live within the moment huh?"

He merely dipped back into his soup rather than answer.

Her caught sight of her smile fading, a hint of melancholy tinting the air. "I knew a Master like that once. I didn't really like him, always came off as harsh, so stuck in his own ways, but he meant the world to Obi... his padawan."

"It is a weakness of those in-tune with the Living Force," admitted Siolo, "We focus so much on the here and now that sometimes we lose focus of the consequences of our actions or attitude that come later on."

She stared at him with an... odd look; an air of nostalgia around her; it prompted him to ask, "Is something wrong with what I said?"

"No," she answered, "Just... it's felt like a long time since I've had a Jedi teach me."

The nostalgia faded, and something dark took it's place. "Even rarer for me to see a Master admit such a fault. So many were simply stuck in their own ways and refused to adapt."

The Force roiled around them hungrily. "Complacent, blind to the suffering below their very feet as they sit up in their lofty temple..."

Siolo went still, wary of the Dark Side emanating from the girl. Yet... there was a remnant of honesty in her words. They reeked of the Dark, yes, yet were empowered by something she viewed as the truth. "How do you mean?"

She refocused and pinned him with a hard stare, blue eyes gleaming out from under her hood. "Did you ever go into the lower levels of Coruscant?"

Siolo tilted his head back in though. "Hmm... it has been some time..."

A wry smile crossed his face. "I may have participated in illegal swoop races a few times in my rebellious youth. Aside from that, most of my time as a Jedi was spent on missions, training my padawans, or instructing classes. I can't say that I frequented the lower levels, and if I did, forgive my memory, it has been over half a century for me."

She stared at him silent for a moment. There was a harshness in her eyes, condemnation, yet, she hesitated to speak. Instead, he felt her stretch out with the Force. Every instinct he had demanded he bat away her mental presence as she tapped against his shields. Yet... what he did instead would have left many master's at the temple speechless and shocked. He lowered them and let her in. Her eyes widened briefly in surprise and confusion, but those emotions faded as the hardness returned. She pushed a memory to him, of herself walking the streets of the lower levels.

Siolo's eyes glazed as he watched, focusing on where her eyes lingered and what drew her attention and spiked her anger. Ah... he understood.

"The Jedi don't have the numbers to right every wrong in the Galaxy," Siolo said softly.

She scowled at him. "Did they even try?"

"Did you?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She recoiled as if struck, eyes widening, then guilt and shame poured out of her. "No... not when I was a Jedi. I... didn't know."

She scowled. "But... it's not an excuse for me any more than it is for the Jedi."

Siolo cocked his head, studying her through the campfire light. He had noted how she continually separated herself and distanced herself from the Jedi. It was not uncommon at all for those who had fallen to do so. Yet, it would make this difficult. Well... only if she wished to return to the Jedi afterwards, as she appeared to harbor resentment towards them. Which made her coming here curious. Why seek out a Jedi if she disliked them? There were other Light organizations in the Galaxy after all, such as the Whills, or even those who leaned Gray like the Gray Paladins, whom Siolo thought might actually be more suited for this task. Their lack of dependency on the Force and more militant lifestyle could encourage less reliance on the Force, in this case the Dark Side, and grow enough discipline to keep it in check.

Then again, if they had gotten one whiff of the Dark Side through her shields they might simply have taken her for a threat and killed her immediately before she had the chance to explain herself. It was hard to say.

Regardless... he felt at a loss to how he personally would even begin to help this child. He thought again of his vague visions, of days and nights passing while he and the Fallen Padawan would simply speak at the campfire. Perhaps... yes, perhaps... he simply need to hear, to listen, offer understanding, and perhaps show her a different path.

"How would you solve the problem of poverty and crime within lower Coruscant? Within all the Republic?" he asked, carefully phrasing his tone to seem like an honest question, rather than a challenge.

That seemed to catch Iris offguard. She didn't immediately answer, and didn't speak for another good ten minutes until she finished slowly eating her food. "Taxes."

"Taxes?" he asked.

"...and proper use of government money," she said proudly, as if the concept was one of her greatest achievements, and not something _every_ critic of any government said, "Add a small tax that everyone can afford pay, and use it to set up shelters or fund efforts to relocate and find people jobs. There are trillions of people in the Republic, a few credit increase to the taxes they pay would hardly be noticeable, but would be huge in amount when fully collected. You could fund so many different efforts to help people who need it. And how many government programs are badly mismanaged? Or a complete waste of time? And do Senators **_REALLY_ ** need the absurd amount of money they make? All of that put into it's proper place would be a big start to fixing poverty."

Siolo tilted his head in acknowledgement before smiling, "I'd be entertained to see you tell a Senator they don't need the money they make."

Iris threw up her hands and took a mocking voice, "'Oh no! Not my precious money! I'll sell you my firstborn child and my soul but don't cut my paycheck!'"

Siolo allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips, which earned a hesitant smile from Iris.

"And what of crime?" he asked.

Her smile immediately warped into something harsh, the dark murmuring around her in the Force. "Criminals should be punished. Petty criminals aren't worth the effort, put them to work and they'll sort themselves out. But murders? Rapists? Terrorists? Slavers? People who hurt others because they take enjoyment from it, and all their ilk..."

She opened her mouth to continue, but paused, a wavering of guilt echoing in the Force around her. Ah... she wasn't as far gone as to not realize she most likely fell at least into the first category. There was no way she hadn't killed with the darkness that seeped around her. It was good that she understood that.

"Everyone deserves the chance to seek forgiveness and redemption," said Siolo softly.

Iris's tirade dropped off, and she grew quieter, but still harsh. "Perhaps... but, only if they actually seek it, if they actually want it. If they make no effort to change, then they need to be locked up or wiped out if their efforts aren't for the greater good of the Galaxy."

The greater good? Oh wasn't he familiar with _that_ phrase. "The greater good is a concept I personally find distasteful."

Iris's hood swerved and locked onto him in surprise. "What?"

"I dislike it because of how many people I have witnessed in my life evoking that phrase to attempt in justify committing horrible atrocities," said Siolo, "Those words, 'For the Greater Good' are a trap to any who hear and use them because of one simple fact. Do you know what it is?"

Iris seemed uneasy, disturbed, and with a tint of anger that if he was right in what he felt, was directed at him for challenging this belief. "What?"

"Everyone has a different notion of what 'the Greater Good' is," he answered, "One person's Greater Good is another person's personal nightmare. You will never find two people who agree on it's definition, nor what should and should not be done 'For the Greater Good'. Some people don't even use it as a validation of their actions, but as a cover for intentionally causing harm when they know full well there is no good in their actions."

That seemed to stop the girl short. "That's..."

She seemed to shrink in on herself, guilt roiling the air around. "T-that's probably true..."

"It took me a long time to understand that concept young one," he said, softening his voice, "Many more years than you've been alive. It is good that you find understanding of it now, rather than years down the road."

She nodded a little, barely catchable in the moonlight.

And speaking of moonlight. "I believe that this is where we will stop for tonight."

The girl looked up at him, so much doubt in the air, targeted at herself. "Why...?"

He pointed upward. "It's getting rather late, and as much as I enjoy our conversation, I am an old man. I need my rest."

She smiled a little at that, a bit relieved. "Oh."

So quick to doubt herself that one. Did she think he wanted to stop and turn her away just from what she had said? He had, frankly, heard worse from those firmly attached to the light, who wanted strict structure and order forced upon the entire galaxy. Perhaps it might prevent crime, poverty, and so much conflict and loss. But at the cost of free will? It was never the right price.

He let go of his musings, turning an offer in his mind over, but did not force it, merely presenting the option, "If you have nowhere else to sleep, I can set up a guest room if you so wish."

There was hesitancy and just a tad of suspicion in the air around her. "I... have my ship to sleep on."

He made no further comment of the offer. "As you wish then, I will see you tomorrow. Good night Iris."

She hesitated, yet again, before offering a quiet, "Good night Master Ur Manka."

He sighed in a fond way he often reserved for insolent padawans. "I haven't been a master in almost a century young one."

She didn't respond to that, merely slipping into the shadows back to wherever her ship was hidden...

* * *

Siolo felt her eyes upon him most of the next day, but she did not approach until nightfall when he set out soup for her. "Good evening Iris."

"Good evening Master Ur Manka," she said quietly.

He gave a soft, exasperated sigh reminiscent of their last parting. "I told you yesterday, I haven't been a Master in a very long time. Siolo will do."

There was a hint of a mischievous smile through the firelight and a tint of guilty pleasure through the Force. "Of course Master Ur Manka."

Oh, he saw how it was. This one liked riling people up did she? He shook his head, allowing a bemused smile to cross his face. He chose to let the comment stand, instead he simply stared into the firelight and ate slowly. They both did, and when they finished, they merely looked into the the flickering flames for a time. He again pondered her request, to help guide her back to the light. Merely talking wasn't going to fully bring her back, perhaps it would continue to dispel some of the darker notions and ideas she had allowed to fester in the mind, but that was merely one step, one act.

When she would need so much more.

"Do you remember meditation?" he inquired.

She looked up at him, and he could see a bit of crinkling in her face under her hood to suggest she was narrowing her eyes at him. her voice offended. "Of course I remember."

"Shall we try?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's pointless. That's one of the first things I tried when I fell, but it didn't _work_."

She grew bitter. "The Light wanted nothing to do with me anymore."

"I doubt that," he said softly, earning a sensation of scorn from her through the Force, "But for one who has fallen, I doubt you can reach for the light as you once did. It most likely requires another approach."

A frown played across what was visible of her face. "Like what?"

"If it was known, returning from the Dark Side would not be considered an impossibility," he said simply.

She scoffed. "Right, well, you have any ideas?"

"Not at the moment, I merely wish for us to meditate so I can see how you try," he asked.

Iris sighed and grumbled, "Fine."

She shifted into a kneeling position, he followed suit, the pair separated by the softly cackling fire. It was... one of the strangest sensations he had ever felt, to have two Force users, one light and one dark, try to meditate together. The Force _rippled_ around them, shifting and swirling between dark and light, high and low, trying to find equilibrium, trying to find...

_Balance...?_

Siolo frowned, slightly confused by a curious, almost childlike whisper from the Force, as if it were questioning what they were trying to achieve. He shook it off and focused his attention on Iris. She was trying to quiet and calm her mind, but hints of thoughts and memories continually flickered through. She did not so much as reach for the Force as she did try to grab and drag it to her. There was also the fact she wasn't really lowering her shields and allowing him to really help. She struggled for a few more minutes until her frustration and irritation broke what little concentration she had.

"Like I said," she spat, "It's worthless."

"Not quite," he said, "You are not reaching for the Force the same way a Jedi normally would."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You are not reaching for the Force young one, you are grabbing it, trying to force it to come to you," he said.

Bewilderment crossed what little of her face he could see. "What? No I'm not. I'm reaching for it how I always used to."

"Do you feel that I am lying?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

Iris reached out with the Force, getting a feel for him, and then grow silent. She said nothing for a good long few minutes, he could feel surprise rolling off her, a bit of shock, then resignation. "No wonder I couldn't do it. I didn't even... how am I supposed to have a chance if my own perception is so warped I can't feel the difference?"

Siolo wondered how many in the history of the Jedi had the chance to do this, to get down into the nitty gritty details of trying to bring someone back? Because her words took him by surprise in more ways than one. That someone fallen could acknowledge and see that they had been changed by the Dark Side and actually care about it rather than revel in it, was abnormal. Most, in his experience, would go on and on about 'the power of the Dark Side' and refuse to even consider returning, or think it was to late for them to do so even if they wanted to. In general Fallen were either hostile or to afraid to interact in the manner the two of them were currently. Then, there was finding out that it actually changed one's perception like that. Of course the Dark Side changed people, but the general assumption was that those fallen became so addicted to power that they didn't care about trying to return, that it destroyed who they were as a person, afflicting their soul with some kind of blight that turned them into a monster. Not that their perception was directly altered, like a parasite altering it's host to better suit it. It was an enlightening discovery. He wondered what else the Dark Side changed about a person, and how it pertained to preventing a return.

"Hmm," said Siolo at last, rubbing his chin in thought, "A fair question, and one not rushed with denial or an ill-thought solution. For now, let us simply continue as is, we shall have you practice meditation, and see if we can work around your perception. Don't get frustrated if..."

"You know," interrupted Iris irritably, "Telling someone not to get frustrated generally does the opposite. It always made me feel that I was being prepped to fail, that I should try harder, and then I'd just get even more frustrated when I still couldn't do whatever was asked of me."

Ah, youth, always pushing themselves so hard with unrealistic expectations, he wouldn't say that though. "Fair enough. Try as best as you can then."

For the rest of the night, the two of them attempted meditation (with little to no progress), before the moon held itself high in the sky. "I believe now would be a good time to call it a night."

Iris said nothing, rising to her feet and turning to go, irritation and frustration coating the air around her.

"Iris," said Siolo, causing her to pause briefly, "While I wont turn you away should you refuse, I would appreciate if you would be willing to come in the morning and help with the garden," motioning to the bowl she had left."

A bit of chagrin rippled through the Force around her. "Right, sorry, I should have offered to work for the food and your help."

Siolo shook his head. "I would never make those in need work for my help, and I wouldn't have asked you to work the garden, but..."

He gave a wry smile, "I'm not as young as I used to be, my old bones would appreciate the help."

She nodded, a hesitant smile on her face. "Alright... old man."

Siolo huffed a bit and waved a hand. "Impudence. Off with you then."

He allowed himself a small smile as she disappeared into the woods before he ambled to his feet, snuffed out the campfire, and retired for the night.

* * *

He was relatively surprised to find that Iris had beaten him to the garden, and had made a sizeable weed pile already. She also finally had her outer robe and hood off, allowing him to see a bob of blonde hair. "Good morning Iris."

She turned her head, allowing him to get a look at her youthful face. Yet... there was something about it, young but shadowed, blue eyes not an ounce of as bright as they should be. Hardened. Oddly, there were what looked like old healing... burn marks? To be honest, it almost appeared like she had been hit by lightning some time ago and it had burned a bit of her face. The marks were old and receding, something that wouldn't permanently mar her, but he felt it was worth noting, especially when the Force whispered the unnaturalness of the marks to him. So not a stray lightning bolt, perhaps some kind of accident or weapon she encountered, or the unfortunate possibility of electrical torture.

Force, he hoped it wasn't the last option, she was far to young to have experienced such an awful thing.

"Good morning Master Ur Manka," she answered before refocusing on yanking weeds out, digging her hands in deep to rip the plants out, letting the dirt fall back down between her fingers.

"Whatever did the poor plants do to you?" he teased lightly, moving to another section of his garden.

It was a fairly decent patch of land, width the size of a small clearing in the vast woodland he lived in. He had taken many seeds from various smaller plants he had found traveling the wilderness. It wasn't to say he really needed it, he could easily venture off and find bushes of berries, or trees of plentiful fruit. The occasional melon-like find. Animal life was plenty as well. It was a majestic and bountiful world, no civilization had reaped it to nothing yet. So long as nature was respected and treated right, it would provide.

"Nothing," Iris muttered, "Just lost in my head imagining I'm..."

She shook her head. "Forget it."

'Imagining shes digging into someone like that and ripping parts of them out' is what he felt she meant, he hardly needed the Force to figure _that_ out. Who had her scorn he did not know. Perhaps something she would eventually reveal. For now though, it was time to tend to plantlife.

"I'm surprised to see you up before I am," he said, making an attempt for a casual conversation.

Force knows he could use the practice, aside from occasionally calling Master Yoda (the only friend he had left alive) he was decades out of practice holding a conversation.

He caught sight of a thin and unpleasant smile on her face, a crinkling at an unpleasant, perhaps painful memory. "I was taught not to presume I could sleep in."

Siolo hid a frown, staring down at his hands as he gently tended to his plants, examining for ripeness. Taught not to sleep in...? The grimness that emanated from her, surely no Jedi Master would punish their pupil for such a trifle thing? He had known a few Masters back in his time that were a bit more of a stickler for rules than the average Jedi, but, none that would inflict punishment enough to warrant such a reaction from the girl. Force knows the worst he ever did to his padawans was fresher-cleaning-duty for a month (which was enough to get most to behave). No Jedi would physically harm their padawan, especially over such a thing.

No Jedi.

Ah...

There was the possibility her Master had fallen and dragged Iris down with them. Or, she had been abducted into one of the various Dark Side cults that existed throughout the galaxy, despite how ignorant most of the Jedi Order was on their existence. Force, most Jedi were ignorant of other Light Side factions as it was.

Was that it? Or was he seeing to much into this? Either way, he did not feel he had enough of a rapport with the girl to ask yet, at least not without driving her away. How she fell and why were matters that would have to eventually, and _very carefully_ , be explored.

So instead, he offered, "You don't need to get up bright and early unless you so wish it. I do to so simply to get my old bones ready for the day."

He smiled a bit. "And there is nothing quite like the crispness of the morning air."

Iris shrugged in response.

Hmm, so much for talking. Ah well, he was used to the silence anyway...

When the morning tending was done, and enough food plucked for a meal for the two of them, he put them in a clay bowl and motioned her inside. There was a hesitancy, yet again, on her face, unsure if she wanted to go in. He was not forceful, he merely went ahead and left the door open. He glanced around his little abode. He had hand-crafted much of the furniture here. The table, chairs, counters (smoothed down large tree stumps mashed together, hard to tell without the bark), doors, every inch he had put his hands on. Of course, he had brought some tools to help bind or hammer and nail things together. There were very few technological implements or devices in the house. It was all so old fashion he couldn't imagine how it looked to someone used to the rigid structures of civilization.

There was the creaking off wood as Iris hesitantly stepped inside, eyes washing over the interior. Her eyebrows slowly rose, an impressed look on her face. "Did you build this house yourself?"

"I did," he said, "With great patience."

"I do most things with patience, and naturally," He reached for a cupboard, bringing out an empty tea can and a heater. "Save for tea. That I can't find myself waiting for to long."

Iris snorted with amusement. "I half-think the entire Jedi Order would fall apart without tea."

Siolo gave a bemused smile. "There are packets and herbs in the cupboards, vials of treated water beneath the counters. If you would please make some tea, I need to visit the 'fresher'."

"Dare I ask how oldschool the fresher is?" she asked dryly.

"You'd probably be more comfortable running for your ship," he admitted.

"What kind of tea would you like?"

"Surprise me."

With that, he left to tend to his business, returning a few minutes to tea simmering on the heater. Iris sat at the table, head propped up with her hands under her chin, elbows on the table. There was a look of _something_ on her face that was hard to place, an air of slight guilt in the air. He was puzzled, but didn't comment, sitting down and waiting. When it finished, she poured them both tea into clay cups. He brought it to his lips, blowing slightly to move aside the steam and took a sip. He couldn't quite place the flavor, an unusual tang of bitterness to it. He wondered what mixture of herbs and flavor packets she had used. He had thought he had tried most of the combinations himself over the years, but perhaps not.

"Not bad," he said.

There was a faint, weak smile on her face. "Thank you."

"Is something wrong?"

She looked down at the table. "Just... remembering the times I used to do this with my Master."

The Force whispered otherwise, that it was a... half lie, a diversion from whatever was actually bothering her. There was a faint hint of danger in the air from the Force, just a slight one. He wondered about it briefly, perhaps it was a warning not to press to quickly? He wasn't quite sure. Regardless, he finished his tea and set his cup down, and got up to make breakfast. After they ate, he considered what to do now...

"Tell me, what did your training incorporate when you were in the Order?" he inquired, "I doubt it's changed much from my years , but you never now."

She shrugged. "I doubt the curriculum has changed, standard classes on history, diplomacy, lightsaber forms, Force Theory, all the same crap."

"Is 'crap' how Padawans whine about their courses these days?" he asked dryly.

She scowled at him.

He merely smiled in amusement. "What Lightsaber form did you prefer?"

"I was taught Ataru by my master, some Shien."

"Are they what you prefer?"

She hesitated. "I haven't really... found a form I prefer. I've... taken to trying to learn Makashi since I... left the Order."

Makashi? She was learning...

Ah.

She was fallen, there was a high chance if she were to perish, it would be at the hands of a Jedi coming after her. So she'd want to be able to dominate lightsaber combat. Then, there was the fact that she was learning Makashi outside the Order. Who was teaching her it? Or was she trying to learn it out of memory from her classes? He hummed a bit before slowly standing up.

"I have a spare staff, care to stretch your muscles?" he inquired, "We could practice forms."

Her face crinkled. "With sticks?"

He gave her an amused smile. "Perhaps you've forgotten what Master Yoda's glimmer stick feels like."

She made a face, and he laughed. "Yes, with sticks, come."

A few minutes later, they stood outside, staffs clanging against one another in a slow display. He was mostly interested in seeing how she fought, obviously a staff wasn't a lightsaber, but he could learn much from watching her try to adapt. And learn he did, but not in the way he thought he would. There was aggression in her form, the beginnings of a focused control that Makashi would demand, but what he noticed missing was more important. There were hints here and there, of how she was trained as a Jedi, but it wasn't nearly as present as it should be. Other Fallen he had encountered and fought over the years often held a bastardization of the Jedi's forms, but this was something else. It was like her old ticks, the way she held herself and fought, were slowly being overwritten by something darker, more aggressive and hostile.

It was as if...

She had been trained by someone outside the Jedi Order.

That led credit to his thoughts of her perhaps having been abducted by a Dark Side Cult.

"What's your favorite form?" she asked, staff spinning through the air and clashing with her own, an eager look on her face, "I can't really tell, your using a mix right now, Niman I think."

He nodded with approval, though he was amused by the childlike eagerness to spar, Padawans always loved Lightsaber practice, and she was no difference, Fallen or not. "It is. I generally prefer Soresu, but I'm using Niman to get a feel for you."

"Soresu huh? I never bothered much with that," she said, then puffed a bit with pride, "I was one of the best initiates and padawans for my age group, I always liked being on the offensive.

_Twack._

He brushed aside a strike and tapped her leg, tripping her to the ground. "Yes, I noticed, your defense is lacking."

She scowled, bruised pride flaring in the Force, and got back up, staff ready and eyes narrowed.

"Would you like to learn Soresu?" he offered.

She paused, uncertainty on her face. "Umm..."

She shrugged. "Okay, why not."

For the next few hours, he reminded her and retaught the basics of Form III until their stomachs growled for lunch. They ate, and then loitered around the dwindling campfire. He dozed lightly, Iris moving a bit away and sitting back against a tree and doing the same. Afterwords, they left to collect wood from fallen trees and branches, plopping it in a pile beside the house. He took her on a walk through the woods later, pointing out shrubbery, places she could find food if need be, how to tell ripe from not ripe, what was poisonous to eat, what animals to avoid.

They made it back as night set, and started up on dinner. "Shall we meditate again while we wait for it to cook?"

There was a sigh but she relented. "As you wish."

That night went much like the last, but they called the meditation session over when dinner was ready. When they finished, he asked a question that had been slowly forming in his mind. If he wanted to pull her from the Dark Side, help her out of it, he needed to have a better understanding of it.

"As someone who is Fallen, what does the Dark Side feel like to you?"

She blinked a few times, taken off-guard. "It... it, well, it depends on what _I'm_ feeling."

"Oh?"

"The Dark Side," she began carefully, "Responds to emotion. Is fueled by it. It was always described to me in my youth as a taint, as a burning creeping feeling that slowly took you over, or a roaring fire that threatened to overwhelm you if you didn't resist it."

"Is that actually what it's like?" he asked, "The Jedi describe it, but they are Jedi, not Fallen."

"It can be," she admitted, "If you lose yourself in your fury, it can be an explosive, all consuming thing, but..."

She shook his head. "If you face someone dark, you should hope it's fire, and not ice."

"Ice?" he asked, confused.

She went silent, and the air around them grew still, as if with wariness. There was a hint of _something_ in the air. She spoke slowly, dangerously, "Cold anger. Allowed to boil quietly beneath the surface. Where hot rage is a uncontrollable bomb that burns out once spent, cold fury is a guided missile that can be held for decades."

He frowned thoughtfully, it almost sounded like she was quoting someone.

"Fiery anger is explosive, but burns away once spent, cold anger can be held for years," she said, "Coldness is how I describe the true depth of the Dark Side. Rage just rests on the surface, like a skin, over a core of pure ice that robs all the warmth, all the light. The hate it can contain is like a black hole, devouring everything. You may think you've encountered someone dark before, but trust me, there are things out there far worse than mere _Fallen Jedi_."

She spat those last words out with disdain, and it was all he could do to stare at her. Just what had she fallen into?

"When I reach for the light, I remember it once feeling like a friend, taking my hand and leading the way," she said softly, a minor tone of old longing in her voice, "But the dark... it's like a hound, it snaps at its master and pulls on it's leash. It will turn and bite you if you don't dominate it. It's far more literal than you might think, if I don't control the Dark Side, and try to let it guide me like the Light would have, it feels like being pulled in so many directions that I'm being physically ripped apart."

"But... that's only one aspect of the dark," she admitted, "The few parts I... well, not like, but understand, are more primal, instinctual, nothing cold. Animals can be cruel things, savage in their struggles to survive, willing to do whatever it takes, and we're just walking talking animals after all."

"As there are more than just one sect and teaching of the light, so to must there be of the dark," mused Siolo, giving her an appraising look, "I'm curious where you learned such different viewpoints."

There was no hesitancy or shame or any emotion. She merely shook her head and stared into the fire. Siolo let it go though, and made no further questions that night.

* * *

Days began to pass in similar fashion. Waking up, gardening, she made tea while he made breakfast, sparring, lunch, chores, then a winding down for the day in various ways; sometimes going for a walk, a nap, or just lazing around and relaxing. It was followed by meditation, food, and then discussing philosophy. Siri was... careful in what she told him. She spoke of the Dark Side, and what she learned, but she never mentioned where, or from how, or exactly what she had dirtied her hands with.

They hadn't made much practice in her reaching for the light, but, she was more relaxed around him, more trusting. There was always that air of guilt around her though...

He paused his thoughts and started coughing, shaking his head and rubbing his throat before going back to stirring dinner. "Hmph, it's been years since I developed a cold, I suppose I'm overdue."

There was a flair of guilt in the air, and it actually kind of irritated him. Not everything bad that happened had to be because of her, but she tended to fault herself so readily, especially as he slowly peeled away the dark way of thinking she had entrapped herself in. Honestly, she had admitted considering being the Empress of the Galaxy and trying to force a 'better' way of life on people. There were so many melodramatic and absurd overarching ideas in her head. While he could admit, the Senate had its fault, doing away with the entire thing was asking for a dictatorship, and that would favor no one but the leader and his or her chosen few.

"I want to try something different today for our mediation," he said, setting the spoon down against the pot.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Since you refuse to lower your shields and let me in to help," he jabbed slightly, getting a returning scowl, "We're going to try the opposite. Rather than you reach for the Force, you will follow me as I try, to see if you can latch on and touch the light yourself."

Their was an air of hesitancy around, always so hesitant and wary that one. "Alright."

He settled down, closed his eyes, and invited her in. It was the first time he had let her fully into her mind, not just share a memory. It was... odd, to have a dark presence inside his head. There were old horror stories initiates used to tell at bed time, to scare one another, of things the Sith used to do in the old wars, rooting and ripping through someones head for what they wanted. This wasn't anything like that, not that he'd let that happen. If she did something... unwise, he would boot her out. She was like a puffer turtle from Clak'dor, slowly entering and expanding her presence, but keeping herself hiding and untrusting behind her shell (shield).

He sent an image of one to her, and she gave off a sensation of huffing. His lips peeled back in amusement, but settled down to reach for the Force. He felt her clumsily latch on to his attempt, reaching for the Force he held in his grasp. It had the awful imagery of a drowning person reaching for water out of their reach as she struggled and flailed for it. It was more than a little uncomfortable for her to do that in his mind. He carefully held it out to her, offering it like energy to a fellow Jedi who needed a little pick-me-up. She reached for it and grasped it, and he flinched when he felt a _-gasp-_ in the back of his mind. Of course, with her startlement, she lost it.

_I... had forgotten... what it felt like._

He nudged her, sending an encouraging sensation for her to try again. There was an air of wonderment about her, the sense of disbelief fading, as if despite her coming here for help she had never actually believed it could happen. He offered the energy again, and she held it, he felt her presence poking it curiously, before trying to draw it to her. It slipped through her fingers during the transfer, and irritation slipped through her shields. But, he merely drew the Force to him again, and offered it once more. This time, she drew it to her successfully, but even as it slipped from him to her and into her shields, he felt it dim the moment she took control of the energy.

They lost the connection between them as she pulled out in indignation and anger. "You see! It want's _**NOTHING** _ to do with me!"

He opened her eyes to see her looking utterly distraught. "I... I felt it, I held it, but it just... it went away... it... I never thought I could actually..."

He raised an eyebrow at her, voice soft, trying to get her to look past her grief and frustration. "If you never thought you could truly find the light again, why come here?"

She blinked away the starting of tears in her eyes and bowed her head. "Approaching you like this... was the only chance I had, the only choice I had left."

"Still, I feel that we made progress tonight," he said, "We'll try again tomorrow."

She said nothing, a subtle shake to her shoulders.

"Iris," he said firmly, making her look up, "We will find a way."

There was that ever present hesitancy in her eyes, more so than usual, heavily conflicted, as if she couldn't decide if she actually wanted the light now that there was a hint of possibility to it. Then, there was fear, as if she were afraid of actually managing to do so. But rather than respond to him, she merely bowed her head again and said nothing for the remainder of the night...

* * *

Day by day, week by week, they tried one method after another to try to help Iris touch the light again. He had his own troubles during the time, his cough slowly developing into something deeper, a constant pressure on his chest, but he ignored it for the most part. He had a duty to Iris, not himself and his old age. He talked her through and reminded her what the Force felt like for a Jedi, let her share in his energy; one session he had instructed her to simply stay in his meditation and simply clasp the Force the entire time. On and on they went, until finally...

He coughed a bit, rubbing his throat, before he asked. "Iris. I don't think we will cross the final barrier until you lower your shields. You cannot return from the Dark Side unless you can learn to trust again."

She was silent, staring at the firelight, a turmoil of emotion in the air and Force around her, before she raised her head to look at him bleakly. "I... I can't..."

"You have to, otherwise I feel that there is nothing more I can do for you," he said, softly, but final.

She closed her eyes, pained. "I... I want you to make me a promise then."

"A promise?"

"I... I know you have a communicator in your room..."

He smiled a little and teased a bit, not upset. "Snooping are we?"

She flinched a bit and mumbled. "Just looking around."

She cleared her throat, opened her eyes, and stared at him, such fear and helplessness in her eyes. "Promise me you won't contact the Jedi."

He sighed. "I don't have any intention of snooping around behind your shields. Your memories and mind are your own, I merely want to help you. I know, as someone fallen, you've done things, perhaps horrible things. I'm not here to judge, merely to help."

His words gave her little comfort. "Please..."

He opened his mouth to respond before quickly bringing up an arm to block a fit of coughing. He waited a moment for it to clear before sighing once more. "Alright, I promise not to contact the Jedi. And if it brings you peace of mind, I haven't contacted them about you prior to now either."

He lowered his shields a little, allowing her to sample for the truth, and she pulled back afterwords with relief. "Okay..."

They settled into meditation, and he reached out, lightly tapping against her shields. There was so much hesitancy, but she lowered them, willingly, and he stepped into pure chaos. Her mind was a flurry of emotions and memories, he did his best not to look, and diverted his attention away from anything that slipped by his mind.

"Reach for the Force," he instructed, "As you would if you were a Jedi."

He flinched a little as he felt her reach and grab for the Force, less demanding than she had in previous settings, but inside her mind it especially _grated_ on him feeling the Force manhandled like that. He identified, as he had simply feeling from the outside, what she was doing wrong. But he couldn't see why she was doing it that way, what could possibly be altering her perception, she wasn't actively trying to use the dark...

Wait...

"Iris, reach for the Dark Side," he instructed, more than a little astonished and chagrined that those words had _ever_ slipped through his mouth.

He could feel similar incredulousness from her as well. "With you still in my mind?"

"Yes."

He mentally prepared himself for it, but it still took his breath away to feel the it wash over him. There was no warmth, just a chilling cold. It wasn't... he didn't think this was the ice she had spoken of, but it was still not quite what he had expected. He hung there in her mind, wrapped in a cloak of the light, and studied what he felt. He noticed there was a kind of... focal point? As she meditated? He poked it, and felt a burst of emotion from it, a brief memory starting to appear before she snatched it away.

"What is this?" he asked curiously, baffled.

"I can't meditate like a Jedi," she answered, "I have to focus on myself, using my emotions as a center point to meditate around."

Enlightening was the only word he had for that answer. It explained so much, he sorely wished he had known this weeks ago. With that, he had an more deeper understanding than before, of the Dark, and what might be going wrong. "You have to let go Iris."

"Of what?"

"Of yourself," he said, "You are pulling the Force to you, pulling it around your emotions, to them, about them. It's selfish in nature. And selfishness is the opposite of what we want here. Its why you can't reach for the light, because your trying to focus it into emotion, drawing it to you in a manner that makes it about you, not the Force."

"I'm... not sure how."

"Empty your mind of thoughts, of feelings, as best as you can, and just... for lack of a better word, float there in the Force, not demanding, not pulling, not asking, just _trusting_. Trust in the Force Iris, and anything is possible."

He felt her thoughts and feeling slowly quiet. It wasn't empty or focused or calm like a Jedi would be, and he didn't think she could hold what she had managed for long, and especially not without his light presence there giving an air of calm. But it was enough. He gently guided her towards reaching for the Force, feeling it grasp him, and tentatively grasp her...

And he felt her presence _shudder_. Her Force Signature shifted so abruptly, like an animal shaking its fur to get rid of water and mud dragging it down. She gasped, and his eyes opened to see her own fly open in astonishment, disbelief, and overwhelming wonder. He slowly let go and pulled out from behind her shields, no longer holding her hand, but she still managed to hold on. Success... impossible success.

He smiled at her, feeling a well of pride, and silently thanked the Force for proving the impossible possible. "Well done Iris, well done. There is still much to be done, but you managed to touch the light. Tell me, how does it feel to hold it again?"

She didn't respond.

"Iris?"

He noticed her starting to shake, her eyes going wide, tears welling in her eyes. "No... no no no no no..."

He slowly rose to his feet. "Iris? What's wrong?"

"What have I done?" she whispered in horror, "What have I become?"

He fell to his knees, feeling a horrific surge of overwhelming guilt and grief and despair pour out of her. She took to her feet and ran, screaming in denial and sobbing uncontrollably. He stared after her, baffled and confused, but struggled to his feet and took off after her. He overtook her a few yards out, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to a stop as she struggled.

"Iris, stop!"

"NO! LET ME GO!" she wailed, "I can't! I can't..."

She sagged in his grip, sobbing. "I don't _deserve_ it..."

There was blackness clawing at the edge of his vision, so much guilt and despair radiating from her. He put a comforting hand through her hair and gently set her to the ground. "Iris, child, why don't you deserve it?"

"I'm a monster," she whispered, shaking, "I've killed... I've murdered innocent people... children... entire families... or delivered them basically into slavery to the Black Sun..."

He closed his eyes and softly sighed. "Iris, the light, the Ashla, is about _forgiveness_. I have guided back those who had taken their first steps towards the Dark Path before, perhaps they killed someone in rage or grief, or hurt a friend. The first step is to learn to forgive yourself, and then after, try to right what you've wronged."

"I'm not... not some misguided _Padawan_ ," she hiccuped, "I fell... I... I _betrayed_ everything my Master ever taught me..."

She started crying once more in earnest, so he merely brought her to his chest and lifted her up, heading back towards his house. He lightly pressed a sleep suggestion to her mind, and in her emotional exhaustion, it took with little effort. He now had another understanding, another reason why it was so hard, so impossible to come back. That absolutely crushing grief and guilt...

The constant air of guilt she had before was nothing compared to what he had felt there. It was almost as if... the Dark _prevented_ her from feeling it, or it masked and smothered it, pushing it down until it was a minor voice in the back of her mind. Once the Dark fell away, it surged to the surface. He was almost completely certain if he had let her go, she would have drawn on the Dark again to smother the pain away. She might have just ran away completely and not come back. He wondered, without someone to guide her, to make her want to try for the light, to give her a _reason_ to, if she would have been able to do so on her own.

It took one to fall.

Perhaps it took two to come back.

Not that she was in the clear, not at all. There was still so much to do. This was but her first taste and step away from the Dark. There would be slip ups, relapses, to be sure. It wouldn't be as easy as touch the light once and be cleansed, that only existed in fairy tales. It would be an immense struggle to shake off the Dark Side, and stay away from it. Something she might fight with for the rest of her life. He deposited her into the bed in the side room. She'd be sleeping here tonight rather than her ship elsewhere. She'd been trapped alone in the dark; no more.

He briefly left to grab a few notebooks of flimsi he kept to write in (archaic if he asked anyone), and jotted down his thoughts and notes as the night passed...

* * *

Iris was... relatively catatonic the next day. She walked around in a daze, ate what was put in front of her, clumsily moved around, but that was it, she all together didn't speak much outside of mumbles. It wasn't until the day after that reality seemed to set in for her. He found her sitting up in her bed, staring down silently at her hands. Her Force Signature a dark-gray and muted, almost numb, rather than the emotional dark leaning towards pitch black. It was a monumental milestone, for the short time they had been together. What had it been? A month and a few weeks at this point? Albeit they had devoted much of their time to it, and she had worked with him rather than fight against it.

"Good morning Iris," he said, standing in the doorway, watching her.

She looked up at him, her eyes in a way both brighter and dimmer, no longer firmly shadowed by the dark, but guilt and grief instead, her voice quiet. "Morning..."

"How do you feel?"

"I... I don't know," she whispered, a tremble to her voice, "I don't know."

"It's alright to feel lost," he said soothingly, "Come, lets have tea and breakfast. We will be adjusting our schedule to allow for more meditation."

She mumbled something along the lines of 'great, more meditation', like she was an impudent padawan. He let her make the tea again while he started on breakfast. He briefly paused to cough into his arm and was about to resume when he felt a wave of guilt hit Iris again, heavy with shame. He didn't turn and acknowledge it though, he let it pass, and brought them two bowls of soup instead. She sullenly ate breakfast, but didn't seem to be able to even look at her tear, her guilt oddly spiking whenever he took a sip, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

After, they sat outside by the unlit campfire, and they settled into meditation. He let he try by herself first, but could sense her difficulty. She was in some kind of cross between a Jedi and a dark way of meditation, trying to trust, but still being drawn towards her emotions. He lightly tapped against her shields, and she let him in. He took a moment to guide her, to help push aside her guilt (not forget, but simply save to address later), and helped her into what had to be her first true meditation since she fell, not counting using a focal point.

She meditated for _hours_.

To the point where he was honestly concerned.

He knew she had to have a lot she needed to release to the Force, but... she shouldn't force it all in one session. He resolved that if she wasn't done by the time he finished preparing lunch, he'd draw her out of it. Eventually, with the smell of warm soup in the air, he went over to her and waves a bowl of it under her nose, something he had done once for one of his own padawans. She didn't react to it. So he set the bowl down a bit away and shook her shoulder gently, tapping on her shields.

"Iris, lunch is ready," he said.

She slowly pulled out of her meditation and stared at him. He had only a moments warning, of tears welling in her eyes and turmoil in the Force, before she lunged at him, wrapping him in a fierce hug. He winced briefly when her arms went tightly over his lekku, but did his best to ignore the discomfort. She cried quietly into his shoulder, and he let her, wrapping her in a similar hug. Force, he hadn't done anything like this since he had a padawan himself.

To be frank, she kind of already was, in all but name as he guided her back towards the light, he wondered...

He rubbed her back gently and pulled back slightly to kiss her forehead. "It will be alright Iris, I told you I'd help see you through this, and I will, my young Padawan."

She gave a startled hiccup, staring at him in astonishment.

"If you'll have me of course," he said.

She bit her lip, anxiety bleeding into the air, but slowly nodded. "I... I'd like that."

He smiled and pressed affection and care against her shields. He wouldn't ask to make a Master-Padawn bond yet, that was much to soon and he didn't want to rush her. He stood and moved towards the bowl he had set aside for her, about to offer it before her voice caught him offguard.

"I've missed having a master, a teacher, who actually cared," she said softly, sadly, grieving and pained.

Siolo slowly came to a complete stop in motion. For one as aged as him, seeing between the lines, hearing what wasn't said, and picking up the hints on what was said was a well practiced trait. "You've had a teacher who didn't?"

Iris froze up for a moment, and then fear spilled into the Force around them like a all-consuming taint, and he feared the Dark retaking her so soon. "I...I..."

"Calm yourself Iris," said Siolo calmly, projecting his own calm through the Force for her to latch onto.

She did so, but it hardly helped. Siolo did not press her, simply waited for her to open up.

"I..." she said again, trembling, "I..."

Siolo froze as he felt her shields crack, and he felt _so much emotion_ boiling beneath the surface, just about to burst. He braced his own shields as best as he could before she exploded and let it out all.

"Yes! I had a master, a dark twisted sick bastard!" she snarled, angry, grieving, "One who stole me from my former master's still warm corpse mere minutes after she died, before I could even truly grieve! I fell and killed his apprentice for killing my master and threatening my friend! So he took me as a replacement. He locked me in a cell, tortured and starved me, showed me my fall over and over again, and threatened to do so much worse if I didn't agree to serve him! So I did..."

Her emotions bled away, exhausted, shivering,"...and I let him turn me into a monster, a murderer."

Siolo stared at her in utter horror. "Iris..."

He threw away so many principles he swore to as a Jedi, going to her and scooping her up into a tight up, pressing his compassion to her in the Force deeply. Wrapping her in a cocoon of care and affection. He caught sight of an imagine spilling through the Force. Of a Tholothian woman dressed in a Jedi's robes, a burnt hole through her chest, eyes glazed over in death. Iris's jedi master if he had to guess. In what he was sure was the first time in a very long time, she truly and honestly grieved. There was no condemnation in his heart for her, only sadness and sorrow. This was a fate he would wish on no one...

* * *

Iris stayed quiet for a number of days, the only communication she gave off the constant spikes of guilt and shame in the air. He didn't press her, giving her time to adjust, release her emotions to the Force, and properly grieve for her dead Jedi Master. Though, he was slowly becoming aware that time was running out for him to help her. The cough grew worse, the pain in his chest was spreading. Their was aches in his bones, a hint of slowness to his thoughts. Arthritis that had been negligent and ignore-able before was a constant sore reminder. His age was finally and truly catching up to him, his body degrading at a unusually fast pace. He wondered if his exposure to her darkness prompted this to begin, but he firmly kept that thought to himself.

He would give her no more grief and guilt than she already had, and even if it was somehow true, he wouldn't hold it against her.

The confessions began about a week after she had revealed what had happened to her. " _ **He**_... brought me people."

"People?"

"To kill."

"Go on," he said softly.

"He said I was supposed to be able to kill at a moments notice, without hesitation, no matter if it was a man, a woman, or a child," she said, constantly swallowing the entire time, "He... tortured them when I didn't and me when I tried to stop him. Made me a deal, said if I killed the parents, he wouldn't force me to kill the children. So I... did. And then, he brutally killed the children in front of me as a lesson."

Siolo kept his lips thin, the bubbling of anger firmly kept down and controlled. "Who?"

She just shook her head and continued, "He kept bringing more families to me, and... I just... went numb to it. Until he was satisfied."

Siolo was the one for once struggling to control his emotions. Whoever her Dark Master had been, he was a cruel and sadistic man. Siolo was not a violent person, but he knew any interactions with this mystery darksider would have to end with him being put down.

"He had me bleed Kyber Crystals next," she whispered.

Siolo flinched a little at that, at such a cruel and awful act to something so pure. "I see."

"He set me loose a bit on the lower levels of Coruscant after," she said softly, "He had already taught me... much... about history, the way he saw and wanted things. I saw the decay, the horrible state of things, and hated it. I came upon a rape in progress, killed the rapist, crushed his privates, beat him into a pulp, and crushed his skull. My Master called me a 'viscous little thing' as a token of affection."

She sighed softly. "I don't particularly regret _that_ , but... I came to see things, not quite his way, but through his way of seeing things. I'm not sure I still don't. I've seen the world through it's darker underbelly, and there's so much wrong with it. I want to fix it, I want to force it to become better."

"You can't force people to," he said softly, "You can only present them the choice, and hope they take the right path. Free will is the right of all sentient lifeforms."

She didn't respond to him further that night.

The next night, after a sulking filled day, she continued. "My Master 'loaned' me out to the Black Sun, a criminal organization, for a year. They had me... do all sorts of horrible things. Murder. Bribery. Thievery. Assault. Acting like all around thug. Like a slaver taking in people who couldn't pay their debts. Helped them take over another criminal enterprise and become even bigger than they already were. So many people suffered because of me, and will continue to do so because I helped the Black Sun grow."

She grew bitter, "I befriended their leaders, I _liked_ them. Considered them my friends, considered them _mine_. And I still don't regret having them as friends, they were the _only ones_ I had since becoming a Jedi. It felt so good to have someone again, who cared in their own way."

She turned to look at him. "So what kind of person does that make me?"

"Lost and lonely," he answered softly, "I will not say you are innocent Iris. That would spit upon the lives of all who had suffered at your hands."

She bowed her head, a ragged breath escaping her lips.

"But... you are not solely at fault, your Dark Master has much to answer for," said Siolo in a controlled voice, not letting his own anger at the man in question show, "As does the Black Sun who directed your hand."

There was a brief flare of protective anger from her at him before she pushed it down, looking away from him in shame.

"Seeking forgiveness is a long and difficult road, atonement is... a struggle," he said, "Especially with so heavy a burden weighing you down. When you are ready and recovered, fully in the light again; helping to bring down your former Dark Master, and turning in the Black Sun, will go a long way towards redemption."

There was an audible spike in fear, the dark clawing at her through the Force. "You have no idea how powerful he is, no idea at all. He'd kill us both in seconds. If we go after him, he'll kill you and take me back, punish me for trying to turn away..."

Siolo gave a wry smile. "I did not say it was I who would fight him, I'm much to old and ailing for that."

Iris flinched, guilt and shame bleeding into the air.

He sighed. "Iris, my old age is nothing you can prevent nor something you should feel guilty for. There is no death, there is the Force, and one day we will all rejoin it."

She said nothing.

He leveled his gaze at her. "Eventually you will have to go to the Jedi Iris."

She shook her head, and continued to shake it.

"You will need their help," he said, "Both to defeat your former master, and... if I cannot finish what we've begun here, to find help finishing turning away from the Dark Side."

She stood, trembling, and walked into the house, still shaking her head in denial as she went.

He sighed softly, and rose to his feet to go after her, before a dizzy spell hit him, and he collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as a spike of pain tore through him. He wiped at his mouth, coming a way with a bit of blood, and took a ragged breath. "Please Force, give me more time, she needs me..."

* * *

Steadily, as another week passed, his condition slowly worsened. Some days it stayed the same, others it worsened. He moved less, and let Iris take the brunt of the chores. His lessons in Soresu turned from spars into simple lessons where he watched her practice. Her progress in reaching for the Light had stalled; her fear, of both the Jedi rejecting her and her former Dark Master coming for her, were the obvious blockers this time. She often woke with nightmares that he had to come and comfort her in the aftermath of.

He grieved for her.

For so young a child, she couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen years old at most. Still a child, a teenager, warped and hardened by a trial thrown at her far before she was ready. Struggling to stand on her own legs and overcome it. She wasn't the only one who struggled though.

He held doubts that he could get her through this part. He had been brash, to take her on as a padawan when his health was failing. He had gotten her hopes up, and he feared that if he died before she finished fully returning to the light, it would destroy what progress they had made, and in her grief over the loss of yet another Jedi Master, fall back into the Dark Side. He struggled with what to do about this. Did he try to seek help? Perhaps they could take her ship to another planet and seek medical attention, though there was little to be done if his body was simply at the end of its lifespan.

Did he simply trust in the Force? Have blind faith that it would see them through? Or was that being foolish? Counting on the Force like that to circumvent what was only natural.

Which left him with one choice, and a broken promise... but could he truely do that? Break his word to her?

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and rose to his feet, making for the campfire, when he stumbled and collapsed, pain rocketing through his body, into a fit of coughing, clutching his chest.

"Master Ur Manka!"

Damn... he hadn't wanted Iris to see this.

She was upon him in a moment, guilt and grief and shame spilling over the area in waves, like an uncontrolled youngling with no shields. She put him on her shoulder and struggled to get him to his room. She knelt by his bed and pressed her head against it, crying softly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered over and over again, "I'm so sorry..."

He sighed, and gently ruffled her hair. "Iris... don't fret my Padawan. I still have time in me yet..."

But inside, he knew his time was short, so he made his resolve...

* * *

The next morning, he awoke and stared up at the ceiling silently. He came to a sitting position, rubbing his aching chest, and reached for his communicator. He paused briefly when he felt a flare of warning from the Force, but he pushed past it. He didn't have time for doubts. He punched in the line for Master Yoda's private comm and waited.

It flickered to life, a blue hologram appearing over the device, the old trolls ears flickering with delight. "Ah, Master Ur Manka, to hear from you once more, good it is."'

He gave a small smile and took a ragged breath. "It might be for the last time, old friend."

Master Yoda's ears drooped a bit as he scrutinized the Twi'Lek. "Unwell you are."

"My old age has finally caught up with me," said Siolo, coughing hoarsely.

He shook his head. "I... contacted you to ask help for my young ward, a favor."

Yoda's ears twitched. "A ward, you say?"

"A padawan," said Siolo, "Who I should have known better than to take on when I was ailing."

"Hmm," mused Master Yoda, "Tell me of this Padawan, you will?"

He hesitated. "I ask for you to have faith, in me, in what I've done, in her, and in the Force."

Yoda waited patiently.

"Almost two months ago, I was approached by a firmly Fallen Padawan," said Siolo, watching carefully as Yoda's ears twitched slightly, a hint of surprise and wariness crossing his face, "Her name is Iris, though I'm not sure that's her actual name. She came to me for help, not wanting to live as she was."

"Oh?" said Yoda, curious, but not as disbelieving as Siolo thought he would be, "Sought help, to return, did she? Hmm?"

"She did," he said, pausing for another fit of coughing, "We struggled, at first, to make any progress. But slowly, we did. About roughly two weeks ago, we succeeded in getting her to touch the light again."

Yoda's eyes widened. "A liar, you are not. Come back, this Padawan did?"

Siolo hesitated. "Partially. She's not... fully dark anymore, mostly gray. She is still going to struggle for a long time, and has a long way to go. Her guilt over what she did while fallen is... crushing. Without me here as a pillar of support, I'm not sure she will remain in the light, and I'm not going to be here for much longer. A month or two at best if I'm lucky. She already lost one Master, I fear that if I die, she will relapse back into the Dark Side without someone there to support her."

"Wish for me to come, you do," said Yoda.

"Yes," said Siolo, "She needs help to finish finding her way back... and there is more, so much more. She was... abducted, her former Master killed, by... well, I'm not sure, a Dark Jedi, or some Dark Side sect, she hadn't clarified for me yet. He tortured and bent her to his will, and she fears he will come for her. According to her, he is powerful."

Yoda's eyes sharped. "Hmm. Troubling this is. Say who her former Jedi Master was, did she?"

"No," said Siolo, "I haven't been as... attentive and pressing as I should be. I eased her in at first, but then..."

He broke into another hacking cough. "Then, my condition started deteriorating, heavily."

Master Yoda nodded slowly, ears twitching as he silently thought. Finally, several minutes later, he spoke. "Come to you, I will. A week, no more, no less, to settle duties here."

"Thank you, just... be prepared for her to be scared, she's afraid of the Jedi, of what you might do to her," he said, both as a double warning, to not be surprised, and to not actually do anything.

"If true she is, in her attempt to return," said Master Yoda, "Then nothing but support, shall the Jedi give."

Siolo gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Hope to see you in a week, I do," said Yoda.

"As do I old friend, as do I."

The comm clicked off, and Siolo briefly leaned against the wall of his room. The Force was pressing against him in steady warning, for what, he did not know. He rose to his feet, grabbed his staff, and wearily walked into the center room of his home, leaning heavily on his staff for support. He paused, noting a steaming cup of tea left on the table for him. He smiled a bit at that, and walked over. He paused, eyebrows furrowed, feeling a chill in the air, of the dark. His ailing condition was definitely upsetting Iris and the progress she had made. It was the right choice, to have called for Yoda. She had come to far to lose herself back to the Dark because of his upcoming death.

He took a sip of his tea, frowning a bit at the heavy bitterness of it. Iris seemed to have got the mixture wrong from her usual tea, but, it would be rude to not finish it, so he did...

...and he clutched his chest suddenly, the empty tea cup slipping from his hands and shattering upon the floor as a horrific pain seized his heart. He coughed and wheezed, buckling to his knees. Was this it? Was the Force to claim him now? He closed his eyes, pressing his head against the floor, struggling. Not like this... he didn't want Iris to walk in and find him dead on the floor. If he could just... just crawl back to his bed... make it seem like he had died peacefully in his sleep rather than in agony here...

He opened his eyes and looked up at the sound of footsteps, catching sight of Iris's boots. To late for that then. He looked up weakly at her, and was confused, so confused, so see her staring down coldly at him, so much bitterness and betrayal on her face.

"How could you," she whispered icily.

She drew a foot back and kicked him, hard, in his chest, sending him sprawling across the floor, screaming, " _ **HOW COULD YOU! I TRUSTED YOU!**_ "

The pain in his chest skyrocketed. "I-iris... w-what..."

"You promised me!" she said, tears welling in her eyes, "You promised me you weren't going to contact the Jedi!"

He looked up at her, pained. "Iris... you still... need help, I'm dying... I don't have time to finish... what we started. I..."

She glared at him, the first tear slipped down her cheek. "I was going to save you, you know? I had finally made a decision, after struggling with it for the last few weeks. I decided last night that I was going to turn on **_him_** , for **_you_** , really try to turn away from the Dark Side, for _you_. I had the antidote ready to put in your tea, but what do I overhear as I'm passing by your door? You _betraying_ **_me_**."

"A...antidote...?" he whispered.

Force...

This wasn't old age.

The tea, her spikes of guilt whenever he had drank from it...

She had poisoned him, had been poising him this entire time...

Then he registered what she had said, and his already deathly pale skin grew ever paler. "Iris... wait... I wasn't betraying you... I was helping..."

She kicked him again, hard in the chest. " _ **SHUT UP!**_ "

The Force was roiled around them, turning darker and darker by the second. Siolo could see all the hard work, all the effort to help her, to _save_ her, disintegrating before his very eyes. What had he done? He should never have contacted Yoda. What had he done?

"Darth Sidious was right," she whispered dejectedly, "He was truly right about the Jedi."

Darth.

Darth Sidious.

Had she just... was she implying... the Sith?

She kicked him again, onto his back. "How could I ever have been so foolish as to put faith in you? Trust in anything you said? Let myself believe..."

She shook her head and straddled his stomach, hands reaching out for his neck. "I... I _hate_ you."

She did, and it was awful to feel, but that wasn't all she felt.

"Perhaps... but if that is all you feel... why are you crying... for me?" he whispered.

Her hands froze inches from his neck, tears streaming readily down her face. For a brief moment, he felt the conflict again, felt the light in her struggle against the darkness, and he had hope she could pull through...

Then her eyes hardened, the darkness crushed down, burying the light, and her hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing tightly.

 _Iris_... he pleaded through the Force as best he could, _don't let this consume you_.

But it was to no avail, either she couldn't hear him anymore, or chose not to.

 _I'm sorry, I failed you_ , was the last thought he could think, her tear stained face was the last sight he saw, her sobs the last thing he heard, as she choked the life out of him and the Force embraced him at long last...

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siri pretends to be trying to come back to the light and slowly poisons Siolo to death; accidentally succeeds in touching the Light and commits to coming back. Then Oops. So close Siolo, so close, then you fucked it up at the end. RIP.


	12. Plunge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Wookiepedia: "...the Battle of Baltizaar was originally placed in 39bby by Jedi vs. Sith: The Essential Guide to the Force. However, the more recent Darth Plagueis novel places the events of the battle in 33bby..."
> 
> This battle was where Komari Vosa was lost to the Bando Gora cult, but more important, that year was when she was released from the Jedi Order. I am personally going with the 39bby timetable to better fit Dooku into this story.

Something was different about his apprentice.

It was the first thought that passed through Sidious's mind as she entered the meditation chamber and knelt, placing a staff at his feet. He said nothing, simply watching her. She bore her clothes of a Sith Apprentice well, for perhaps the first time ever. She looked... comfortable in it. Not self-conscious in the slightest, or harboring any secret doubts of her path. Yet... her eyes were still sickeningly blue.

Which wasn't really a surprise.

Not from what he had been sensing from her for the last few weeks. To be frank, if he hadn't been both in the middle of an important bill he was sponsoring in the senate **_AND_ ** having to deal with his Master for the duration, he would have gone after his apprentice the moment he felt that sickening light emanate from her. He had never thought it could touch her again, yet it had. He remembered the first vision he had of her, that struggle between Light and Dark. Siolo Ur Manka hadn't been the Jedi pulling Tachi back towards the light, he was sure of it. The fact that he had meant Sidious hadn't been nearly as thorough as he should have been probing for his apprentice's future.

He ought to kill her.

It's the second major thought to run through his head. A Sith that would return...

But no.

She wasn't a Sith. As much as he thought her his apprentice, by definition she was merely fallen, an acolyte. She hadn't made her sacrifice, and still bore those blue eyes. She wasn't Sith, not yet. She was still sickeningly vulnerable to the Light, and would continue to be until she made her final steps and became a Lord of the Sith. He had given her instructions in how not to deal with Ur Manka, and judging by the duration of her mission, she had played a long game. She had left herself exposed to the Jedi, and had nearly been lost him. Not that he would have let her go. If it had gone on for more than another week, he would have **_made_ ** the time to leave and deal with the issue. Ur Manka would have been dead, and he would have punished Tachi in a way that few ever experience.

Sith did not tolerate their brethren nor their acolytes turning from the Dark.

But then, the return. He had felt the Dark come back and swallow his apprentice, plunging back down and further into it's depths than before. The sensation of _-betrayed-_ emanating from her was _intoxicating_. Siolo had misjudged or done something to betray his apprentice, lost his chance, and paid the price. She had done the deed, as instructed, and came back. He had dismissed the warning his first vision of his apprentice had given him. His apprentice was _not_ secure. She had immense potential, but could be lost to him if he wasn't careful. His arrogance in assuming she was _his_ could have cost him his apprentice. He would not make that mistake again. She needed to be pushed deeper into the Dark Side. Thus, Sidious... wasn't sure if his apprentice should be rewarded for succeeding in her mission or punished to the point of several _months_ of bacta immersion for touching the Light. Both could have their uses, though the second risked alienation, if resentment rose above her fear of him, now that she had turned away once she may desire to do so again...

He supposed he'd see what she had to say first before deciding.

"Your mission is complete?" he question.

"Siolo Ur Manka is dead," she spat out, viscous, but aching with betrayal as much as she tried to hide it.

He probed the bond to her silently. She felt personally betrayed, hurt, devastated, by whatever had happened. For as calm and focused as she appeared outward, inwardly she was a maelstrom of emotions. Some she should feel as a acolyte, others should be dead to her by now.

"I am curious, my apprentice," he said, taking on a warning tone that made her go still, "How you managed this... _feat_."

"Poison," she said.

Poison. It was such a simple solution. And yet...

"How did you get close enough to poison him? And how did he not detect it?" he questioned.

"I approached him, pretending to be a Fallen Jedi Padawan...," she began.

"Pretending?" he questioned.

She glared at him, blue eyes smoldering under her hood. "I am a Sith Apprentice, am I not?"

He flexed his fingers, lightning dancing between them in warning at her tone.

She scowled a little but backed down. "I _pretended_ to be a Fallen Jedi Padawan seeking help returning to the Light."

"And the Jedi, being the naive fools they are, accepted," he mused before going deadly harsh, "Yet, from what I felt from you during this mission, I cannot help but wonder if you were truly _pretending_ in your attempts."

She went silent for a long moment. "Felt?"

He scoffed. "You are _**MY** _ apprentice, we are connected. Surely you are not that blind nor incompetent."

She blanked briefly, and then he felt a slight nudge in the connection between them before she sighed. "Perhaps I am, or I simply refused to accept or acknowledge it."

Hated and feared him to the point of denial. He wasn't sure if he should be amused or irritated at her allowing it to cloud her awareness.

She went quiet for a moment, he imagined she was working over the implications of what that exactly meant for her. Finally, she continued her debriefing, "His methods were more successful than either of us thought they would be. I... did not expect them to honestly work, so I just went along with everything he said while I slipped poison into his tea every morning."

He sampled for the truth. It was there, but also lacking. Withholding. Not unexpected.

But one could not so easily dance around the truth if directly asked. "And tell me, my apprentice, did you wish to turn from the Dark?"

She looked up and met his gaze steadily, before taking a route that caught him a little offguard. "Of course I did."

He blinked. For a moment he wasn't quite sure he had heard _that_ right. But he had. So, in knowing they were connected, she did not try to lie or deny it. On one hand, he would tolerate no deception in this matter, on the other, a Sith should practice their treachery when possible, especially against one another. He was thus curious how exactly she planned to weasel out of getting punished, he couldn't fathom how she'd manage it. "Did you now?"

She grew derisive. "You, someone who has only ever touched the dark, wouldn't understand."

He narrowed his eyes, pulling back the urge to electrocute her to near death. There was a time for punishment, and a time to hold it back. Now was the latter. "Then perhaps, my apprentice, you should _explain_."

"It abandoned me," she said, and he heard the yearning ache in her voice, "So when I touched it again, I wanted to hold onto it and never let it go. To feel that warmth that had been denied to me, to remember what it had been like, to **_possess_ ** it. But you know what, my Master? The entire time I had 'turned away' if you want to even call it that, I kept poisoning him. Every. Single. Day. Despite having touched the light."

He raked through her mind, making her hiss in pain, and was rather surprised to find she was telling the truth. Though there was something about it... something withheld but he could not figure out what. He lingered on her choice of words, of _possessing_ the light. What a curious turn of phrase. And dangerous if he understood exactly what she was saying. "Be mindful, my apprentice, that light and warmth can _burn_ if you hold it to close."

She went silent for a moment before softly saying, "It did, in the end."

Her eyes grew ice cold, the Dark Side rippling around her. "But when it did, I snuffed it out."

He supposed that was the crux of the matter, she had finished her objective and returned to him when she could have stayed in the Light and returned to the Jedi. She could not get off free however...

"And as such," she continued, voice rising, as if to dare him to refute her, "I deserve to be rewarded."

He stared at her, masking his astonishment and disbelief. Such ridiculous _audacity_... she dared to _**DEMAND** _ of him? After her near failure? She should be kissing his boots and begging for mercy, not that he would give it nor respect the act, quite the opposite. Some part of him was impressed by her boldness, on the other hand, he was her Master, and oh, he was going to make her suffer...

"I want you to teach me how to use that Lightning of yours," she said.

And then he paused his thoughts, and slowly, a cruel smile played across his face. Perhaps he could have both then, reward and punish her. Pull her further into the Dark Side while punishing her for her venture into the Light.

"Force Lightning," he mused, and oh was it good for his plans that she wanted to learn _that_ ability, "Requires a hate I'm not sure you yet posses."

"You'll find, Master," she sneered, actually _dared_ to so openly sneer at him, she had grown even _more_ insolent, "That I have plenty of hate. You just need to show me how to properly _cultivate_ it."

Cultivate.

Under his hood, he raised an eyebrow. Perhaps she understood more than he thought. He had allowed her to be out from under his watchful gaze for to long while out with the Black Sun. He needed to keep her where he could see and observe her, see what changes she had gone through for himself. She was bolder now, and with that thought he realized what phase she was going through. Rebelliousness, not just in the later teenage years, but as a Sith Apprentice. He had never had the chance to experience it with Maul, and he had not been a teenager when he first began his apprenticeship to his Master. Not that he truly needed to be to buck at Plaguies's chains. Still did even.

Oh yes, he needed to keep a _very_ close eye on his apprentice to make sure she didn't step out of line, or risk their plans. For at least another few years until she matured.

"Force Lightning," he began slowly, channeling his energy before blasting her to the ground, but she did not scream or cry out in pain, not this time, she merely hissed and ground her teeth, she was finally learning, "Requires two things in immense amounts, hate and focus..."

* * *

Master Yoda stood silently at the edge of Siolo Ur Manka's home area. At his side stood Master Windu and Master Dooku. The first he had brought to observe this 'Iris', to see if Vapaad was the path she would need to walk to balance her darker side and reintegrate into the Order. Needless to even mention about seeing what shatterpoints existed around the child. The second, was to have someone of a more critical opinion. Yoda was hopeful for this lost child, but he did not want that to blind him. So he had his old Padawan come from his latest mission to observe and poke and prod and question, to see if this child was all that she seemed. Among other reasons he wanted his Padawan close.

He Ignored that Iris obviously wasn't what she seemed. He had checked the archives, the only Iris's in the Jedi Order were either long dead, or currently a four year old initiate in the creche. So, as Ur Manka had guessed, the name was false, which perhaps threw the entire situation into question, or it could be taken as a defensive mechanism, of fear towards the Jedi. It saddened him, that they would be feared by one of their own, fallen or not.

But it was all a moot point.

Because at the center of the clearing that marked Ur Manka's home, were the remains of a Jedi Funeral Pyre. It's embers had smoldered out days ago, all traces of Ur Manka gone. This 'Iris' was gone as well. The only signs of her were lingering traces of her presence in the Force, yet... they were cloudy, hard to see and identify. He walked forward slowly and bowed his head at the edge of the pyre, sighing softly.

"So, we came here chasing ghosts then," mused Dooku.

"This 'Iris' couldn't have been gone for more than a few days," said Mace, looking around slowly, "Perhaps we can pick up her trail, or she might have left evidence we can use to identify who she really is."

"You would think so my old friend," said Dooku, "But I can detect little, and looking around..."

He circled the area. "There is not a trace. Not a scrape of cloth, not a thread of hair. I doubt we will find anything inside either. She purposefully left no evidence, and we know next to nothing about this Fallen Padawan, as Ur Manka failed to disclose anything aside from gender and a false name, not even her race. We have not a clue where she might go. She has had days to put distance between here and wherever she has flown off to. We will not find her unless she wants to be found."

Yoda silently agreed with him, but hobbled into Ur Manka's home anyway, wishing to see how his old friend had lived his retirement. He silently admired the architecture, the decades of hard work. He took a round of the home, his fellow Masters following behind and observing. He found, as Dooku had suggested, nothing about this 'Iris'. But...

In the kitchen area...

He felt where Ur Manka had died.

He felt the loss, the hurt, the pain, and a sense of... betrayal. But not from Ur Manka. His old friend did not feel like he had been betrayed... curious.

"Sad he felt, grieving," mused Yoda, placing a hand on the floor and closing his eyes, "Failed, felt he did, in his last moments."

"I feel it to," said Mace, eyes furrowed, "The other presence, the Fallen Padawan, felt betrayed...? Hurt? I feel a darkening here. I'm not sure I can make sense of what happened with merely echoes."

"Hmmm," mused Dooku, "If Siolo is truly to be believed on how far he and the Padawan came together, as one who is or was dark it would be in her nature to be... _possessive_ of him. There is no death, there is the Force, that is not something someone Fallen would accept. For as little as it makes sense to us, perhaps she viewed his illness, his death, as a betrayal, of him leaving and abandoning her."

"Mmmm," murmured Yoda, prodding the Force, getting little in response but the same muddled clouding whenever he tried to make sense of the darkness slowly spreading through the Galaxy, he did not know if that was the correct conclusion or not, "Feared that, Ur Manka did, not in those terms, but the same in the end, it was."

Dooku's insight in the matters of the Dark Side from his studies and missions, while thought provoking, sometimes worried Yoda. He brushed off his concern and released it into the Force. "Find this Iris, we cannot. Trust in the Force, we will. If meant to find her way back to us, she will."

Yoda pressed again one last time, not for the Darkness, but the Light, and felt... _something_. It was still clouded by the dark, while their was a faint air of familiarity about it, he could not identify who this 'Iris' truly was, but... she felt as much sorrow as Ur Manka did, as much grief, loss of faith, and pain, so much pain. Ur Manka's passing had hurt the child in one way or another, of that Yoda did not doubt. She was lost again to the Dark Side, and it grieved Yoda to realize that. To have someone lost come so close to returning, to defy an impossibility, only to lose the chance.

He walked outside and grasped his glimmer stick with both hands, staring out at the pyre. "Speak well for her, it does, that give him the pyre, she did. Give it to him, she would not, if cared, she did not."

"It could be to hide evidence," pointed out Master Windu.

Yoda nodded in acknowledgement. "Mmm."

Windu frowned and glanced around slowly, and Yoda could feel him probing the air, not as the rest of them would, but for shatterpoints. The man blinked, pained, and reached up to rub his eyes as if blinded. He shook his head and looked... worried.

"What happened here was days ago," murmured Windu, "A shatterpoint should not linger. Yet the fault lines do, at such a size, slowly receding. If this is what remains... how massive was the shatterpoint when Siolo was trying to save the Padawan?"

Yoda's ears twitched, waiting patiently.

Windu pursed his lips. "What happened here was much more than the struggle for the soul of a single Padawan. What exactly this means, I am not sure."

"Touch many lives, one person can," said Yoda slowly, eyes washing over the greenery around them, "Good or ill, light or dark. Consequences her actions have, spread across the Force it will."

"Perhaps," said Dooku, "Or perhaps it had nothing to do _exactly_ with her. Let us not forget what Ur Manka said she told him, of a powerful Darksider that killed her Jedi Master and abducted her. I won't pretend to understand a shatterpoint as you do Master Windu, but, perhaps the real opportunity lost here was her leading us to this _beast_. I am far more concerned about the Darksider than I am the Fallen Padawan."

Yoda tilted his head in thought, slowly nodding. "A point made, you have. Much danger and damage, could this unknown threat cause."

"Master," said Dooku, kneeling down next to him despite his own old age, "Do you wish me to investigate this matter?"

Yoda blinked and turned his head. "Find this threat, think you can?"

"Letting it walk unchallenged is foolish," said Dooku with disapproval, not at all actually acknowledging the question, "Jedi go missing each year; some with explanation, some not. How many, pray tell, has this Darksider potentially killed? How many assumed dead, were instead subjected to torture and turned? Let my purpose become it's end, and let it be my legacy."

Yoda leveled his gaze on his old apprentice before 'thwacking' him with his glimmer stick. "Legacy hmm? A legacy you have, if visit your Padawan and Grand Padawan, you would. Refuse missions from the Council, scouring the Outer Rim, chasing shadows, isolated you have been. In a rut, Vosa's fate has left you, that Galidraan has left you."

Dooku's face darkened. "Is this why you really called me here? How I give my service to the Order is none of your..."

Yoda poked his chest, not harshly, but firmly. "My Padawan, you are. Concerned, I am. Allow you to seek out this Darksider, I will not, unless help yourself first, you will. Lose you to this threat, I will not."

Dooku scowled and stood. "I am not some weak Padawan, but a fully trained and experienced Jedi Master. I have no concern of this threat torturing me into the dark."

Yoda slowly shook his head, it was not Dooku being ' _tortured'_ to the dark that worried him. His old padawan was setting himself up for failure. Yoda had seen it many times over his nine hundred years of life. "Spoken, I have."

Dooku glared. "So is this what it takes to have our fallen or missing Jedi investigated? Something you use as a means to and ends to..."

"Dooku," said Winda sharply, briefly cutting him off.

Yoda's ears drooped a bit, but acknowledged his words. "Spread thin, to thin, the Jedi have been. Investigate thoroughly, and with time, many of our lost or killed have not been. Agree with you, I do."

Dooku's hostility faded, looking actually surprised that his words were headed.

"Listen I do, Dooku," said Yoda softly, "But only one person, I am, though Grandmaster I may be. Listen to the council, to the senate, I must."

Dooku huffed. "Maybe if we weren't so reliant on the pocket books of the Senate, we could dictate our own efforts better."

Yoda gave him an indulgent smile. "That view, made you have, _many times_."

They shared a brief chuckle before Yoda flicked his ears and sighed softly, "Grant you this mission to investigate our fallen, I will, see your old Padawan and his Grandpadawan first, you will. In their own rut, they have been. Perhaps help one another, you will."

Dooku sighed. "Very well, but I make no promises. Qui-Gon and I... did not last part on the best of terms."

"Hmph, not my fault, that is, hmm?" said Yoda, whacking Dooku's shin, earning a scowl, "Come, come, leave Ur Manka to his rest, we will."

Yoda hobbled a bit, with Dooku at his heels, before pausing, turning to look at their wayward companion. "Master Windu?"

The Korun Master stood there, his frown still heavy on his face as he stared at the pyre's remains. He slowly shook his head and walked after them. Sometimes Yoda wondered just what it was his fellow Master could see. Other times, he did not envy the man. To many burdens and roles the Force already placed on them, and despite how they all rose to the responsibility, they still weighed heavily. Out of the three of them here, perhaps only Master Windu came close to truly understanding the depths of the consequences, whatever they may be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone know the specific year Obi-Wan went to Mandalore for the mission to protect Satine as a Padawan?
> 
> And forgive me if I butcher shatterpoints or take them up a notch more than cannon. Considering that Sidious could have been both robbed of an apprentice, and had the Sith revealed here, it could have been an absolutely massive event that changed the fate of this Galaxy.


	13. Plunge (Part 2)

Screams were a thing of beauty, a melody, a lullaby to every Sith's ears.

What Sidious heard now was no exception. All he had to do was give basic instruction, a little walkthrough, and place someone his apprentice would think deserved it in front of her, and, watch the sparks fly. The empty room he had put some Twi'Lek criminal bound to a chair in lit up with flickering blue light as Force Lightning ripped from his apprentice's fingertips. He tapped his lips in thought for a moment, watching only half the blue streaks impact their bound target.

"Focus my apprentice, you must have focus," he ordered, "Direct your hate to it's target, do not let it roam freely, it is a waste of your hate and your energy."

Tachi paused briefly, narrowing her eyes, before her face morphed into a hateful sneer and she thrust her hands forward.

He watched the blue-white energy burst from her hands, all of the streaks surging into, and through, it's target. The Twi'Lek screamed in agony as its flesh slowly melted, it's lekku turning into shriveled up prunes. She wasn't powerful or focused enough yet to turn Force Lightning into its most lethal forms, but she could easily, if but slowly, cook someone to death, and of course use it as an offensive tool in a fight. The smell of burning flesh brought a soft smile to his lips. His apprentice was slowly coming into her own. She took to Force Lightning well, not as well as he had, no one would ever be as skilled with it as he was, but she would be proficient with it. He did briefly wonder what would be her specialty; he supposed he'd find out eventually.

"Good, goooood," he rasped with dark approval, "But you must be mindful of where and when you use this ability. Using it while masking yourself and the ripple it would case in the Force is... something even I have difficulty with without taking special precautions. Nearby Force Sensitive will feel it; the range of detection will grow with your power, your presence, and the intensity you put into the lightning. Even the act of unmasking yourself to briefly call on the power will radiate your presence like a beacon."

She nodded slowly, walking forward and poking the melting corpse, coming away with gooey flesh that she flicked off her finger with distaste. "We're going to be practicing that, aren't we?"

He chuckled. "You know me well my apprentice. Until you can sufficiently mask your use of the Dark Side to come off as nothing more than a brief disturbance or distortion, you are forbidden to use the ability outside of this place."

She gave a wry smile. "Let me guess, punishment every time you detect me?"

"Within reason."

"Is there a trick to it?"

"I will not give the answer freely, but consider the veil of the Dark Side, and how it may hide you and your actions."

Siri tilted her head. "Veil?"

He paused; he hadn't explained that yet, had he? He considered how to answer that without giving something away. "Years ago," not that many, but she didn't need to know that, "My old Master and I willed a shift to the Force, tilting, no, not a tilt, not even a mere paradigm shift, but a tangible alteration that could be felt by anyone with the Force. Surely you, before you came under my tutelage, must have felt the clouding within the Force, making it more difficult to perceive the future or receive guidance from the Force for the Jedi."

Siri blinked. "Oh. That makes more sense then the Force just suddenly getting mucky. How'd you manage that?"

"Months and months of meditation," he said dryly, "Where we challenged the Force itself for sovereignty."

She grew wary. "And it just _let_ you?"

"No counterforce rose against us."

"That doesn't mean it did nothing," she said uneasily, "You don't need to challenge someone directly to work against them."

Sidious didn't immediately respond. Frankly, she might not be wrong. It was something he'd have to meditate on later. "Or, you underestimate the power of the Dark Side, of two Dark Lords of the Sith of Bane's line at their peak."

Siri said nothing, her gaze betraying nothing, and even her emotions had stopped swirling, save for a tint of fear. Subtly, he peered through the bond...

_Using the Force is one thing, challenging it like that would get us destroyed._

He sighed with annoyance. "You still see the Force as your ally, a higher power, when it is your servant, your _slave_. It must be dominated and brought in line. In time, you will understand. Now, return to the task on hand, how might you use the veil to hide your actions?"

Siri pursed her lips and held up her hand, levitating the staff on the floor into the air. She began to spin it with the Force, and he could feel her probing the area around it, seeing how her act sent small ripples though the Force. It was not something she would learn quickly, but he would be patient. He had altered his schedule as much as he could to focus on keeping her reigned in for the next year or so. By then, he figured he'd have broken her out of her teenage defiance, if not sooner. She would be much more skilled and powerful, he would press her to her limits and push beyond. After all, he had to get her over the Jedi's coddling into the conditioning of a Sith.

Then...

He thought of her personnel file, of the Jedi noted to be her acquaintances and friends, smiling cruelly.

Then it would be time for her trial.

Her sacrifice.

Where she would both prove herself worthy of the Sith and damn herself beyond anyone tempting her with the light again...

* * *

_*Knock knock knock*_

Master Dooku stared at the door to his old Padawan's Master/Apprentice apartment in the Jedi Temple, feeling unusually awkward. Force, when was the last time he had even spoken to his apprentice outside of a com-call? Face to face? After Xanatos fall? There was Tahl's death... but did a quick ' _I'm sorry for your loss_ ' between missions really count? He and Qui-Gon had ended the apprenticeship on a foul note, to be sure, but... standing here and now, at his padawan's door, was all that ever needed to happen to potentially renew that relationship. Not that Qui-Gon had particularly reached out either, but Dooku didn't really blame him. He hardly ever made himself available to.

_*Woosh*_

The door opened and young eyes peered up at him, slightly startled, before bowing. "Master Dooku, welcome."

He wonders. Had he even met Obi-Wan Kenobi before now? The boy would obviously know who he was, few in the temple that weren't creche infants did not. But personally...

He felt a tint of shame.

He didn't know his grand-padawan at all. Had never reached out to offer even the slightest of advice.

Dooku tilted his head in greeting. "Padawan Kenobi, is your Master present?"

Obi-Wan nodded slowly and stepped aside, moving back into the apartment. "He is."

Dooku took a moment to look the boy over. There was a slight sagging under his eyes, and his presence had an air of lasting melancholy about him. Almost like... no, _exactly _ like Qui-Gon had after Tahl had passed. Who had the boy lost to gain that? Dooku briefly flicked out a datapad from his robes, calling up his padawan's latest missions ( _he only looked at them to keep an eye out for his former student, nothing more, it was not with a sense of longing, it was not!_ ). Within the last year, the pair had only been on two missions, a waste if Dooku was asked, mainly sticking around to focus on Obi-Wan's studies and classwork as a cited excuse to reject missions. Before that was a sixth month censure ( _an absurd duration_ ) and before that...

Ah, the High Councilor fiasco. The deaths of Master Gallia and Padawan Tachi.

He wondered, was Tachi Obi-Wan's Tahl? He had a hard time imagining it, they didn't know eachother half as long as the elder pair did. Unless the Padawan was letting himself obsess and linger over what couldn't possibly have been a long relationship, on the 'what could have been'; but considering Qui-Gon's still surviving issues over his own loss, the man just might share in the misery and let it stand.

"Are you going to stand out there all day, my old master?" came Qui-Gon's dry voice.

Dooku bristled briefly, pocketing the datapad and walking in, chin held high and composed. "I was taking a moment to collect my thoughts."

"Oh?" said Qui-Gon, sitting cross legged on the floor at a table across from his padawan, sipping tea briefly, "What mission does the Council have for us that it would require you as a messenger?"

A sharp jab, to say Dooku wouldn't visit otherwise. Not quite untrue either. "No mission, my young Padawan."

Obi-Wan snickered a little. "Young."

Qui-Gon gave him a dry look and reached over to tug on his padawan-braid. "Brat."

"I simply... decided to ascertain how my Padawan and Grand-Padawan are doing," said Dooku carefully.

Qui-Gon gave him an unreadable expression for a moment before sighing. "Yoda?"

Dooku winced a little and nodded. "Yoda."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "The troll should mind his own business. Honestly, is he that desperate that he sent _you_ after us? We will sort ourselves out when we are ready."

Dooku withheld the flinch, keeping his gaze cool with a slight tint of disapproval. "Regardless of the Grand-Master's interference..."

He hesitated. "It is long overdue Qui-Gon. I should not have distance myself as I did, and leave you to three apprenticeships without hardly a word of non-condenscending advice to give."

There was a slight narrowing of his Padawan's eyes. "Oh? Did Xanatos end that way simply because you weren't there to advise me in my _inexperience_?"

Dooku scowled darkly, insufferable little... "That is not what I meant, _Jinn_ , and you know it."

"Master," murmured Obi-Wan, "He's come here in earnest, surely you feel that."

Qui-Gon looked away briefly, jaw-strong set, before sighing and motioning to the table. "Sit, my old Master, Obi-Wan can pour you some tea."

There was silence for a few minutes, as three generations of their line sat and sipped tea together, before Qui-Gon spoke, apparently deciding on a neutral subject, "How fared your forage into the Outer Rim?"

Dooku huffed a little. "Forage would be an apt description I suppose. A sentinel's work is never simple, but spending weeks or months on end hunting down Dark Side artifacts or investigating various ruins, cults, and the like, is trying at times."

"Cults?" asked Obi-Wan uneasily.

"We are hardly the only Force-Practitioners in the galaxy young Obi-Wan," said Dooku before frowning, "And many others are not nearly as benign as the Jedi Order, far from it."

He glanced towards Qui-Gon. "Though my Padawan did have one he favored to an absurd degree."

Qui-Gon gave him a look. "The Whills, the Guardians of Jedha, are a sect that deserves respect."

Oh, Dooku forgot how much he enjoyed needling his Padawan. "Was that it? Or were you always so obsessed with their ridiculous myths and legends."

He smiled teasingly. "Chasing immortality is hardly a Jedi trait after all."

Qui-Gon scowled, but Obi-Wan looked fascinated. "Immortality?"

"The Whills believe it is possible to retain your sense of self after death," mused Qui-Gon, "I've been in contact, on and off over the years, with one of their Shamans on the matter."

"What happened to 'There is no Death, there is the Force'?" poked Obi-Wan, joining in on the teasing.

"And now you've corrupted my Padawan, Master," whined Qui-Gon with mock exasperation.

"I've hardly corrupted the boy, Qui-Gon," said Dooku, "After all, I have yet to even speak a word about some of your more... amusing... misdeeds during your apprenticeship."

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes. "Yet?"

"I reserve the right to."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily.

"Surely you weren't that bad as an padawan, were you Master?" asked Obi-Wan innocently.

"I'm going to choose not to answer," said Qui-Gon bluntly.

Obi-Wan cracked a grin before something self-depreciating crossed his face. "Well, I doubt you beat me on leaving the Order to fight in a war."

There was a hint of a flinch there, an air of shame about the Jedi Master. "No, but leaving you behind in that circumstance was just as bad."

"Consider it a joint effort then," said Dooku firmly, the pair of them were already melancholy enough without this being added in, "And move on."

Sufficiently chastised, both Master and Padawan retreated to drinking their tea.

Obi-Wan was the one who broke the silence, "So... Grandmaster..."

Dooku wasn't quite sure what he felt right then and there, hearing that word come from his grandpadawan's mouth. A tingle of pride perhaps?

"...what did Yoda pull you out of to come here?" asked Obi-Wan, "He didn't interrupt something important, did he?"

"He pulled me into another mission first," said Dooku, "Tell me, Master Ur Manka is still talked about in the temple these days, is he not?"

Obi-Wan's eyes went wide a bit. "Yes he is, Master Drallig mentions him at least once a week, usually bemoaning us in comparison."

"Well, between you and I, the battlemaster in my time did the same," said Dooku conspiratorially.

"And mine," added in Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan snickered a little.

"Well... Yoda received word from Master Ur Manka some time ago," said Dooku, "In which, the venerated elder..."

"Which one?" teased Obi-Wan.

"Hush Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon, eyes intently on Dooku.

"Venerated elder being Master Ur Manka," clarified Dooku, "Reported that he was dangerously ill, and feared he was not long for the world."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's faces turned serious, and a tint of sad.

"He wanted Yoda to come and pick up a project of his," said Dooku.

"A project?" questioned Qui-Gon.

"Stray, he means," mouthed Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon reached for Obi-Wan's braid again, but the boy leaned out of range.

"Master Ur Manka was, apparently, trying to redeem a Fallen Padawan and bring her back from the Dark Side," said Dooku, still amazed at the audacity of the deceased master.

Qui-Gon stroked his chin thoughtfully, Obi-Wan on the other hand looked startled. "He what? I thought you couldn't come back from the Dark Side...?"

"Well, from what he told Yoda he was making a good effort of it, but feared his death would undo the progress he made," said Dooku, "Unfortunately, when we arrived, the home was empty, and a funeral pyre had long since burned down."

"Thus passes a legend," mused Qui-Gon.

"What about the Padawan?" asked Obi-Wan.

"From what we felt... we suspect she was lost again," said Dooku, "A wasted opportunity, especially with what intel was passed on."

"Intel?" questioned Qui-Gon.

"It is to be kept between the two of you," warned Dooku, "Apparently, there is a powerful dark side user killing Masters and abducting their padawans to forcibly turn."

A look of horror crossed Obi-Wan's face. "Y-you're not serious?"

"He wouldn't jest, not about this," said Qui-Gon slowly, carefully, before nodding at Dooku, "I thank you for the warning then, I'll keep my senses peeled when we are away from the temple."

Dooku nodded back crisply. "I doubt the council will make it public. I am being tasked on investigating all missing Jedi reports to see if any lead to this threat."

"Be careful Grandmaster," said Obi-Wan, a little anxious.

"I plan to be," agreed Dooku, "But this _beast_ has been allowed to roam free for who knows how long."

The room grew silent as the trio finished their tea.

Obi-Wan broke the silence again, "What was the Fallen Padawan's name? Do we know who her Master was?"

"Master Ur Manka said the Padawan identified herself as 'Iris', but not only is the name false, he did not give us any other information in which to identify her," said Dooku irritably, "If we had a firm identification for both her and her dead Jedi Master, it would have served as a precise starting point for my investigation."

Obi-Wan frowned for a moment, head tilted, eyes distant. "Iris..."

"As I said, the name was false, the only Iris currently in the order is a four year old initiate in the creche," said Dooku before pausing, something occurring to him, "Unless you knew of a Padawan who went by that as a nickname perchance...?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, just... the Force was... nudging me I guess...? I'm not sure why."

There was a chance Obi-Wan might have known whoever this 'Iris' was, but, without further identifiers the notion was a rather useless. "The Force has been rather vague as of late, hasn't it?"

Qui-Gon snorted. "To put it mildly."

Dooku smiled a little before turning to Obi-Wan. "So my Grand-Padawan, tell me of your apprenticeship thus far. How has it been under my badger of an apprentice?"

Qui-Gon huffed a little bit, smiling though as Obi-Wan started in on a tale...

* * *

_Obi-Wan was breathing raggedly, exhaustion pulling at his aching bones despite not doing anything. He watched an older version of him and his master battle a blurry dark figure on a walkway in some kind of power complex. He squinted, trying to make out who the figure was; all he could see was a dark version of Jedi robes, a red saberstaff spinning back and forth to easily redirect their attacks and lash out with physical hits or force attacks. He caught a flicker of blonde hair and blue eyes, a female human figure, a sense of familiarity that he couldn't quite place..._

_Then the woman planted her foot right into Obi-Wan's chin, knocking him from the walkway onto one far below. He landed with a wince and laid there for a moment, catching his breath, before he struggled to rise to his feet and leap back up. There was a steady stream of panic rising in Obi-Wan's chest as the dark warrior lured Qui-Gon towards a hallway of laser gates. He knew he had to get there in time, they could barely hold off the woman together. If he was cut off from his master for an extended period of time..._

_He rushed, only to be blocked by the laser gates coming into play. Thankfully his master and the dark woman were separated as well. The older Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon spoke to the woman, though Obi-Wan himself could not hear what was said. There was an air of frustration... of conflict... about the woman, but when the shields came down, the fight resumed... only for Obi-Wan to get caught behind the last laser gate, watching in horror as his Master rapidly started to lose the fight, and then Qui-Gon was disarmed, the woman's saberstaff pulled back to run him through as the older Obi-Wan screamed for her to stop, screaming a name..._

Obi-Wan jolted awake, a startled and fearful gasp escaping his lips. His heart pounded relentlessly for a minute's time before he slowly began to calm himself and release his emotions to the Force. He laid in his bed, trembling at the vision that had taken him, before he sat upright in his bed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. There was an air of warning, of potential, about the vision, and that woman, why did she seem so familiar? He just couldn't place it. Rather than sleep, he settled into meditation, probing the Force for answers it seemed to clouded to give...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone got a Dark Side Force Power they'd suggest Siri specialize in? Or just lightsaber excellence + average in Force abilities?


	14. The Sacrifice

_One Year Later..._

Of all the things Siri hated the most, having to deal with Nute Gunray of the Trade Federation ranked fairly high on the list. The first time she had observed him was of the Neimoidian basically pissing himself through a hologram over a 'light' scolding from Sidious. She had hoped, prayed, that he was one of a kind, the lowest scum they had to deal with, but Sidious slowly revealed a vast array of corporate cowardly fools that bent a knee to him. Of which, Gunray was the worst. She had made the mistake of airing a grievance about it, only for Sidious to use that as another form of punishment when he wasn't slapping her around the training room.

If she irritated him, he'd send her on the next intimidation visit towards the Viceroy rather than just comm-drop him.

He'd had her do it three times already.

The Viceroy had a habit of mismanaging funds for his own personal pleasure rather than pursuing Sidious's desires. Which, was a really, _really_ , stupid idea. If he wasn't so easily malleable to her Master's will, he'd be dead already. But Sidious already thought he wasted to much time correcting the Trade Federation's stupidity, and breaking in another Viceroy after going through all the trouble to have apparently put Gunray in the position in the first place wasn't worth it. As such, she was forbidden to kill him for any reason short of him betraying them to the Jedi.

So here she was, riding an elevator up to the top floor of one of the federation's 'pleasure yachts'. Siri could only wrinkle her nose in disgust. A waste of money, and a waste of people. The woman and men here could be put to better use than this. Gambling, drugs, sex, all of it was a pointless waste. She had never cared for any of the three as a Jedi, and most certainly didn't as a Sith Apprentice. Sidious warned her of the pleasures of the flesh, of how it can be distracting to them, but how they could also use it against others.

She slowly shook her head. Sidious was only just beginning his instructions on manipulation. She knew Gunray had a larger purpose than just being a controllable miscreant in charge of the trade conglomerate, but she didn't know what it was, couldn't see that far. Sidious saw to plans that could be decades in the making, fueling fires of conflict on worlds that would slowly spread, or leaving lingering resentment that could be used years later, or carefully working over a contact to their side, a bribe here, a threat there, a called in favor all of the sudden, a hit put out for this politician or businessman/woman, ect... All of it moving towards one specific goal...

The death of the Jedi and the ascension of a Sith Empire.

She just couldn't see how it all came together yet. Still couldn't decide if she wanted the first part to happen or not. Even after Ur Manka's betrayal...

_He didn't betray you Siri..._

...there were still Jedi she cared about in the Temple that she...

Then, the door opened up to the top floor of the Yacht, into a long, dimly lit hallway, and she completely froze at what she saw.

"I'm telling you Master, that guy is hiding his laundering," came the dreadfully familiar voice of one Jedi Padawan Garen Muln.

Human, male, brown hair and eyes set on a fair if but relaxed face. He bore his brown robes well, her first thought at seeing him, the bounce of a lightsaber on his hip as he approached the elevator. His padawan braid had gained a few beads, each color signifying a different skill that had been mastered or difficulty that had been overcome. Siri didn't even remember what had happened to her own braid, had she tossed it into that stinking cell with her padawan saber? Yet, she wondered what hers would have looked like at this point, had Master Galia lived, had Siri not fallen.

"I know Padawan, but it's not our place to investigate deeper, honestly, why the senate requested a pair of Jedi to press the slime is beyond me, woe be it that we were the closest," agreed his Master, head slowly turning from her padawan.

Siri took that moment to observe Garen's master. A human woman by the name of Clee Rhara, a Jedi Knight and an ace of the Starfighter Corps, training Garen to be the same. Fair skin, a bit more pale due to constant time in space, orange hair and eyes. Then, those eyes took in the open elevator they were moving towards, and she froze when her eyes landed on Siri. Immediately her arm shot out to stop her padawan, hand moving towards her hilt.

Garen did the same, eyes turning towards the threat his master saw, only to freeze for a moment, eyes going wide in surprise, shock, and then delight. "Siri? Siri Tachi!?"

Why... would he be happy to see her? The dead Fallen Padawan? She would have thought the Temple Rumor Mill would have torn her reputation apart, assumed deceased or not. Perhaps... since he had been a friend... did he look over it...?

Dare she even hope?

She swallowed, hard, her voice growing shaky. "G-garen."

And then her head caught up to her, and she realized the situation in full.

No... oh no no no no...

She knew Sidious's rules. If she came across any Jedi who identified her...

"I... we thought you were dead Siri!" exclaimed Garen, "What happened?"

Siri needed precious moments to steel herself. "I... I was..."

He took a step forward, noting the panicked look on her face, taking a step forward in concern. "Siri?"

Knight Rhara's hand landed firmly on his shoulder and pulled him back, her eyes coolly narrowing at Siri. "Padawan Tachi, while I am glad to see you still live, I am... curious as to how you survived when your Master did not, why you are here, and your... current choice in clothing."

Siri clenched her fists tightly, her anger starting to bubble. There was the Jedi reaction she was expecting.

Garen blinked a few times, looking, really looking, at Siri. "Those robes..."

She felt him reach out with the Force, trying to brush against her hidden shields. "I can't feel... why are you hiding yourself Siri? How are you hiding yourself like that? What's going on?"

She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, feeling tears well up in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Garen."

She opened her eyes and burst forward, igniting her red lightsaber and going for a quick kill, the least she could do for her friend. But his Master had obviously expected something, her green lightsaber springing to life and intercepting the blow.

" _ **SIRI** **!**_ " cried out Garen in shock, in hurt, in betrayal, staggering away in horror.

Siri turned away from him, focusing on his master. Garen's shock would keep him out of the way, or not focused enough to be a threat. She drew on the Dark Side, smothering her fear, her desperation, her sorrow and guilt and anxiety. Refusing to allow anything to hold her back as coldness overtook both her and the area, electing a startled gasp from Garen, and a grim look from his Master. Siri's lightsaber lashed out in quick, controlled, viscous strikes, stabs, and ripostes. She had come a long way since she began her training in Makashi, while she wasn't a master in it yet, she was decently proficient. She didn't think she could take a Jedi Master yet...

But a young Knight training her first padawan? A Jedi Pilot, not trained specifically as a Guardian or a Sentinel?

Siri scored her first hit less than thirty seconds into the duel, redirecting the woman's lightsaber into the hallway's walls and then sliding her own lightsaber down in a quick precise stroke, leaving an ugly burning scar down the woman's left thigh. Knight Rhara gave a pained cry and staggered away, one hand clutching the lightsaber wound, her other keeping her green blade pointed shakily at Siri. If the woman had any exposure to Makashi, it was probably long forgotten katas back when she was a padawan, perhaps decades ago. It was laughable, and _weak_.

"Siri _**STOP**_!" cried out Garen, rushing forward and igniting his blue saber, standing by his Master's side, "Whatever happened to you, please stop!"

"She's fallen, Padawan," said Knight Rhara through clenched teeth, "You're friend is lost. Focus, I need you to help me take her."

Garen's eyes pleaded with her. "Please Siri, stop, let us help you, even through the dark I can feel you hurting."

Siri flinched, and for a moment, her lightsaber wavered... let herself entertain the notion...

Before she shook her head. "It's to late Garen, far to late for that. You should be happy it's me, as I'll make it quick..."

She gave a twisted smile. "My master would be far more cruel."

"Your Master?" questioned Knight Rhara.

Perhaps she'd let them know, before they died, what they were up against. "Sidious, Darth Sidious."

There was moment of horror and disbelief on both Master and Padawan's faces before Siri used that to her advantage and _moved_. She thrust an open palm forward, shoving Garen down the hallway with the Force before going for his Master. With the woman barely able to stand on her injured leg, the already wide advantage became insurmountable. Siri could detect traces of Ataru in the woman's movements, but trapped in this tight hallway, she was limited, where Siri was not. She parried aside a blow, lightly skimming her blade across the woman's chest, making her stumble back. Siri struck fast, three rapid jabs, collarbone, chest, stomach, not deep, but enough for great pain, and the woman fell backwards to the ground, crying out. Siri stepped forward, twirled her saber, and smoothly executed, taking the Knight's head off.

It was easy... the woman might not have been a shining example of a Jedi Knight she could fight, but... Siri's few years of training had already made it so easy to kill a Knight...

" _ **MASTER**_!" screamed Garen.

Siri had a brief moment to look up before Garen came at her hard, anger and loss in his eyes, betrayal etched so deep into his face that Siri's dark control was briefly shaken, and she felt regret...

Realized that she had taken Garen's master as her own master had been...

She smothered it and fell into a retreat, allowing Garen to push her back and expend his energy in viscous heavy blow...

Then her back came in contact with the now closed elevator door and she wondered just when that had happened. Had someone called for it? She ducked a slash, an orange welt burning into the closed door, and rolled, her lightsaber slashing at Garen's leg as she moved passed, burning through nearly to the middle. Garen bit back a scream and staggered on the leg, smashing face-first into the hallway wall. One hand moving to grip hold him steady against the wall and his buckling leg, the other wearily holding his lightsaber out to ward her away.

"How could you betray the Jedi?" he whispered, "How could you do this?"

She swallowed back bile in her throat, saying nothing.

"We missed you," he spat out, "We _grieved_ for you. Obi-Wan was heartbroken that you died, he still clams up whenever you're mentioned. If he saw you now, a _Sith_..."

"SHUT UP!" she screamed, pain and anger and regret and grief ripping through the air as she rushed at him.

Garen lunged at her charge, his lightsaber going for her center, for the kill.

But even distraught, she was still well trained. She sidestepped the lunge and spun, dragging her lightsaber into and through his back and spine. Garen fell to the ground with a hushed gasp, his lightsaber clattering across the hallway. Siri stood over him for a moment before driving her lightsaber through his back, his heart, and into the floor. Her friend spasmed, then moved no more, passing into the Force, a quick death. Siri let her lightsaber drop from her hands and knelt down next to him, burying her face into the back of his tunic, a pitched wail escaping her lips, the Dark fleeing her.

"I'm sorry Garen," she whispered, "I'm... I'm so sorry..."

She took a ragged breath and raised her head as the elevator dinged behind her. On reflex, she shielded herself in the Force and prepared to act...

Only for for a dark chuckle and the soft clapping of hands to be heard, Sidious's dark voice rasping out, "Well done my apprentice, well done."

Siri closed her eyes painfully. Tears streaming down her face. That... that bastard. He had set it up... set this whole thing up to make her kill her friend...

Was...

Was he going to make her do this for all of them?

For Obi-Wan?

Who... who grieved so much for her?

"A potential only truly shows their worth when they make their Sacrifice," said Sidious slowly, stepping into the hallway, "Slaying someone who had once meant something to them. I myself killed my family, and you have now killed your former friend. I am pleased, most pleased..."

Siri said nothing, struggling with her roiling emotions between her tightened but wobbling shields.

"Now rise, Darth...," Sidious paused for a moment, considering, "...Tyrosus."

Siri grew beyond bitter. So was that it? Betray and murder a friend, family, and get ' _gifted_ ' a new name?

Sidious waited a moment before growling, "I said rise, Apprentice."

Siri stared down at the burning scar across Garen's corpse, a shaky sob escaping her lips, unable to find the strength to.

There was a hiss from Sidious as he strode forward, grabbed her, hauled her to her feet and spun her. He looked at her tear stained face, her eyes ( _always blue he would say in disgust_ ), and stared at her in disbelief. "You..."

He snarled. "You killed the Jedi, but _failed_ the Sacrifice?!"

Lightning ripped from his fingers, sending her flying down the hallway, screaming in agony as he took the lightning to an output he never had before. "Worthless! Waste of an apprentice! How could you fail it? The Dark Side..."

" _ **ISN'T WORTH IT**_!" she screamed, her grief and guilt pouring out of her, momentarily stunning Sidious and stopping the lightning, "It's not worth it... nothing you've shown has made **_this_ ** worth it..."

She had killed Garen...

Killed one of her best friends...

Force... oh Force...

It hurt... it was like a deep, bleeding hole in her soul...

"You don't know the power of the Dark Side my young, foolish, ignorant apprentice," snarled Sidious moments before lightning ripped from his fingertips again at a brutal intensity, her vision blackening, "But you will learn..."

* * *

Sidious stared down into the medical bay of his facility in the works, staring at his apprentice, still fuming. How could she _fail_ the Sacrifice? It was all he could do not to outright kill her. He had turned his fury on the Jedi's corpses, ripping them to shreds in a Force Storm, before he focused his rage and brought it under control, setting about falsify the logs of the ship and the security footage before disposing of what remained of the Jedi and their ships. He had dragged his apprentice back here, shocking her unconscious again and again whenever she awoke, until it came to the point where it was get her medical attention or let her die.

He refused to believe he had wasted his time. But where had it gone wrong? She had darkened greatly over the last year, had done his bidding with hardly an ounce of hesitation, yet failed so badly when it came to killing a former friend? How?

"I could feel your agitation half way across the Galaxy, Sidious," came the harsh whisper of Plaguies.

Sidious didn't bother turning, nor showing any surprise at this sudden visit. "She killed a former friend, yet failed her Sacrifice."

There was stillness in the air for a moment. "Her sacrifice? I was under the assumption she was to be a tool, _nothing_ more."

Sidious briefly berated himself for the slip up in his agitation before he went with a blunt misdirection. "She was to replace Maul in his _entirety_ , and the boy was already to the point of being fueled with the Dark Side enough to be considered an apprentice, where she _should_ be to be of true use to us."

He could feel Plagueis's eyes boring into him, calculating, judging, feet slowly approaching. Sidious did not tense, but if his Master thought he was moving to betray him and sought to strike, he would be ready...

Plaguies instead stood next to him, peering down at her. "So she partook in the offering, but did not complete it. She is dark enough, to be sure, yet... there is something lacking I feel."

Plagueis turned his head, yellow molten eyes boring into Sidious, "Describe the event as it transpired."

Sidious did so, perhaps his master could see where Tachi was still lacking.

Plagueis listened intently before clarifying, "She said the Dark Side wasn't worth it? That nothing you showed her made it worth it? In those words?"

Sidious frowned briefly. "Yes."

"What have you tempted her with?" asked Plagueis, a hint of curiosity.

"I have taught her some of our history," began Sidious, "Taught her to wield the Dark Side, begun perfecting her lightsaber form, strengthened her physical limits through intense training, shown her to hide herself in the Force and her use of it, I even bestowed her the knowledge to perform Force Lightning."

Plagueis waited a few moments before scowling. "That's it?"

Sidious turned sharply towards him. "What, did you expect me to hand out all our secrets?"

"Mind yourself Sidious," warned Plagueis before shaking his head, "You still have much to learn about drawing someone further into the Dark Side, my apprentice, especially a Jedi. You've thrown her the most basic of scraps, merely brought her up to par physically. Force Lightning is a tool that the vast majority of Sith both in our line and in ages long past could use. It's hardly the most tempting of techniques."

Plagueis turned full towards Sidious, his voice growing dark, alluring, "Where is the temptation of forbidden knowledge? The trails of deeper, darker secrets? Hints of powers and abilities to draw her curiosity in, to create an apatite for power and knowledge. Have you even shown her a holocron yet? Let their whispers and promises of power pull her in?"

Sidious resisted the urge to glare. He did _NOT_ believe in sharing power, especially so freely. An apprentice should have to fight for every scrap of knowledge they could find...

"Do you forget Sidious," questioned Plaguies, "Your own early apprenticeship? How I pulled you in bit by bit, one piece of knowledge after another, one Holocron with a hint of another when I deemed you ready? One secret of ancient Sith Lords to the next and the next?"

Sidious... did not reply, considering the words.

"It is fortunate our plans for Dooku are still close to a decade away," said Plaguies with disgusted chagrin, "You still require practice with the intricacies of tempting a Jedi."

"She is not to be an apprentice," Sidious lied.

"I'm not saying she is to be either," chided Plaguies, "But a few secrets to pull her in, one Holocron is hardly going to make her a threat to us. You sprung the Sacrifice on her to early, and now risk your tool. If she isn't properly reeled back in, firmly and quickly, she will be lost to you, and all of your time wasted. We hardly have the time to wait for training another replacement tool."

Plaguies turned away. "Draw your apprentice properly into the Dark this time, not simply bathing in it, but delving deep; or dispose of her and find some other means to carry out our will discretely."

Sidious stood there for a time, scowling to himself, staring down at his apprentice's unconscious form. "A holocron..."

His nostrils flared in agitation before he controlled it, what did he have to lose at this point? "Fine, we will see if this strategy of his has any merit."

He considered his collection of Holocrons for a moment before a slow, dark, smile spread across his face. "Ah... now that's a possibility."

He glanced down at Siri again. "Perhaps one blonde hair formerly blue eyed devil woman to another may pull you in."

He turned away and strode from the room. "Let us see if Zannah can be _bothered_ to be of use..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darth Tyrosus... bit of a spoiler for ya'll, there's a few ways you can take the name.
> 
> Tyro = From Medieval Latin Tyro ("young soldier, recruit").
> 
> Osus = According to Wikipedia: Perfect active participle of odi ("hate; dislike"), likewise used in the present active meaning in earlier Latin.
> 
> Tyrosus = Young Hate, or Recruited Hate (or perhaps Hatefully Recruited, she did hate how she was brought it)
> 
> Alternatively...
> 
> Tyr was a Norse War God who preceded over matters of law and justice.
> 
> Tyr = Justified.
> 
> Osus = Hate.
> 
> Tyrosus = Justified Hate (towards Sidious).
> 
> Or perhaps... Lawful Hate? Hmm? Future hints perhaps...
> 
> There's probably other ways it could be taken, but regardless, I like how the name sounds. Make of it what you will, the name has been teased, but it will be awhile before Siri truly earns the title.
> 
> Also, I'm going to REALLY enjoy the new few chapters. :D


	15. The First and the Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Taking a lot of leeway here, like or dislike at your own prerogative.
> 
> I also probably have Zannah's speech and mannerisms wrong, but, I don't have the Rule of Two books to judge. Sorry if it's way off :P, I only have Wookiepedia to use.

When Siri came to, and was finally not immediately electrocuted unconscious again, she was back in her room. Her first instinct is to let a pulse out in the Force, testing the area for traps and dangers. She's on her bed, there is no one else in the room, the door is...

Locked from the outside, gripped tyrannically with the Force.

Sidious isn't letting her out of here until he wants to.

She continues her pulse, feeling no traps or...

Then her head turns, detecting a dark sensation, a watchful one, as if Siri herself is being studied. Sitting on her desk is a red and black pyramid like object that radiates the Dark Side. Siri studied it for a moment, slightly curious as to what it is, but dismisses it, tilted her head back straight to look up at the ceiling. Images flash through her mind, of Garen, of that look of betrayal on his face...

Of murdering him...

When he cared, when he wanted to help...

Depression is an old friend, one she hasn't really seen since she was in her cell before accepting Sidious's apprenticeship. She welcomes it anyway, flagellating herself again and again that she killed one of her best friends for _nothing_...

She feels something, a brush against her shields, a whisper to follow, but she shoves it away. It's not Sidious demanding something of her, and even if it was, she doesn't care anymore. Let him kill her, it would be better this way...

Then a red light illuminates the room, and a woman's voice rings out, sharp and pointed, "You are a moody little thing aren't you?"

Siri bolts upright, hand going for a lightsaber that isn't on her belt anymore. Sitting on the edge of Siri's desk, is a young looking woman. Covered from foot to collarbone in dark, almost skin tight black leather and robes. A longer lightsaber, a saberstaff perhaps, rests on her belt. Her face is smooth, pale, beautiful, with blonde rolling down to rest on her shoulders. But what draws Siri is the woman's eyes, with diamond black tattoos stretching above and below her eyes.

Her molten yellow eyes.

Siri straightens. "Who are..."

She frowned, noting a slight shimmer to the woman's form, a line of red light connecting her to the pyramid. Like... like a Gatekeeper.

"A holocron," said Siri with a frown, "A Sith Holocron."

Why would Sidious give her one? Especially since she had 'failed' his Sacrifice?

"Well what do you know," mocks the Sith Gatekeeper, "You can put two and two together. Do you want a medal?"

Siri scowled at the woman, but her attention turns back to the Holocron itself. "It... doesn't feel like a Jedi Holocron."

The Sith scoffs. "Of course it doesn't, because Jedi are idiots and don't know how to make them _right,_ with _purpose_ , with _will_."

"What do you mean?" asked Siri.

"Do you honestly care for the answer?" questions the Sith, "Or am I a passing fancy before you return to your moping?"

The Sith pouted before Siri could answer. "I never like being a mere side attraction."

Siri sighed and looked away, she didn't want to deal with this right now...

A tingle of warning runs down Siri's spine, the Force is steadily growing louder as it warns of danger. From the... holocon? How could a holocron be dangerous?

"So tell me, little Fallen Jedi," purrs the Holocron, "Are you going to ignore me?"

 _Danger_.

Danger

 **DANGER**.

"Because if you're going to just sit around wasting my time and your own potential, I can make a lot better use of that body than you can," came a hushed, dark voice where the woman's playful banter had just been.

The Force is full on screaming at her to pay attention, and Siri does, turning and tightening her shields as the Holocron raises a hand at her and...

_**EVERYTHING BURNS!** _

She feels like there's something pushing into her body, her mind, trying to burn her from the inside out and turn her into a husk. Siri lets out a scream of surprise, feeling the presence, so small, yet so dark and malevolent, piercing right through her shields, for her mind, her memories, aiming to tear them apart piece by piece, making her forget everything that made her who she was and everyone that ever mattered to her, immediately going for her strongest memories... Obi-Wan...

Siri reacts at that, the danger to her precious memory of what she still treasures despite how buried in the dark she is. Unlike the presence, which is so small and fractured and broken, she is not. She grabs it, shoves it back, and throws it out of her mind. She tags a ragged breath, her shields on the verge of destabilizing and cracking from the inside out, her mind feeling aflame. What...

"What in the nine Corellian hells was that?" snarled Siri at the Holocron, fury radiating off her at the invasion.

The Holocron pouted at her again, flicking it's hair back. "Transfer Essence, I greet all female Sith that way. Always a damn shame I can't get myself a nice _fine_ new body. We're rather compatible if you ask me," eyebrows lifting suggestively, "Got room in that body for a spare?"

Siri grows just a tad flustered and honestly baffled, not sure what she's supposed to feel at that. Somehow the Sith made a mental attack trying to possess her body come of as a pass at her. "No."

The Sith pouted. "Tch."

Siri shifted uncomfortably. "If Essence Transfer is what your implying... but you're a gatekeeper..."

The Sith rolled her eyes before motioning to the pyramid shaped holocron on the desk. "We don't make our Holocrons the way Jedi do. Even between the Sith, methods varied. The process is long and complicated, but most important is the Rite of Commencement, to imbue and create our 'Gatekeeper' as you call me. Some are cognitive maps of the Sith in question, some Sith completely bind their souls to their Holocrons and make it their new body. Then, there's me..."

The Sith flashed a savage smile. "Who wanted the best of both worlds, and wouldn't take no for an answer. To keep going as the Dark Lady of the Sith, and leave a small part of my soul behind to continue even after my time passed."

Small, fractured, and broken.

That's what Siri had felt push into her, and it shocked her, it wasn't just a gatekeeper, it was an actual... "You're..."

But wait...

She frowned. "You can't honestly ever expect your 'Transfer' thing to work, do you? You're just a fragment, you'll never take a whole person over who fights you."

The Sith shrugged. "Can't blame a woman for trying can you?"

She grew sly. "Not to mention, you almost let me, miss so-mopey-that-I-could-slide-in-with-ease. That's the closest I've ever come to actually getting a new chance at life."

Siri scowled and tightened her shields, checking and smoothing over any cracks she could find. She might have issues with her current 'profession', but like hell was she letting herself get body-jacked. "Why don't you just take over some random person then?"

The Sith made a disgusted face. "Like Chaos am I ever taking over a Force Null."

"Chaos?"

"Hell, nine Corellian Hells, the void, Netherworld of the Force, whatever you want to call it," said the Sith dismissively, "Taking a Force Null would just leave me stranded in one body till it grew old and died. Immortality is the goal, young one, I'd rather keep existing in a little cube then nowhere."

Immortality huh? "Why would you want to live forever?"

The Sith snorted. "That, is _so_ a Jedi question. Everyone and everything wants to live, they struggle and grow and evolve with their own life or legacy in mind. Do you deny this?"

Siri pursed her lips. "Logically... no. I've read that parents often wish the best for their children, help to set them up for a better life than they've lived."

"Not that Jedi would know what a parent is," drawled the Sith, "They're so unnatural. Denying emotions, accepting death so readily, baby-napping infants from the love of their parents..."

"Like a Sith knows anything of love?" countered Siri, shying clear away from 'baby-napping'.

"I did, once," said the Sith, appearing briefly lost in a memory, "When I was a child. Of course, the Jedi killed _that_ spectacularly and set me up to become what you see now."

There was a dark ripple around the holocron, viscous and angry and open despite however long it had been since whatever she spoke about transpired. "You were a former Jedi?"

The Sith shook her head. "Never took that step actually, I was being brought to become one, but... one could say fate happened I suppose."

"Who are you exactly?" questioned Siri.

The Sith grinned. "You, darling, can call me Zannah."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Darth Zannah."

Siri's throat went dry in an instant. "The first apprentice of the Line of Bane..."

The Sith spread her arms out to the side. "The one and only."

She scowled. "Not that most of my descendants give a damn anymore. Not an ounce of respect for their elders..."

"Elder is right," said Siri, deciding for a bit of payback, "What are you, over nine hundred years old prancing about as if your a young lady? You should act and look your age."

Zannah gave an indignant squawk. "I'm still young in spirit!"

"Old hag."

"Little bitch."

"Aged tramp."

"Teenage whore."

"I'm still a virgin thank you very much," snubbed Siri.

Zannah _stared_ at her. "Karking Jedi, you deny yourself all of life's pleasures, don't you? That's not a good thing dear, we need to get you laid ASAP."

"No thanks," said Siri dryly; this act the Sith was putting on was... weird, "Besides, Sidious said the temptations of the flesh..."

"Oh kriff Sidious," said Zannah dismissively, "The last several Lords of the Sith have all been stuck up prunes. Even Bane was more lively than them when he was trapped in his armor."

"Life exists for our pleasure," purred Zannah, "What good is it if we cannot have a little fun? Live a little."

Siri rolled her eyes.

"I'm not saying forget our goals," said Zannah pointedly, "But if our every waking moment is spent in service to the Grand Plan, then how are we any different than the Jedi who enslave themselves to the Republic and it's goals? We must live for ourselves, be bound by no chains, even to our Order. I lived as a Sith because I believed in it's purpose, but I never stopped living for myself either, even as I trained my replacement."

Siri crossed her arms. "Not that I can live anything like that with Sidious chaining me down."

"Like I said, kriff Sidious," snubbed Zannah, "He might be the most powerful Sith of our line to date, but he's still the worst of us. Arrogant beyond belief, ignorant or dismissive on the past and the accomplishments of his predecessors, not to mention absolutely sexist and speciest to the point of foolishness. Honestly, my apprentice wasn't human yet she still managed to kill me and take my place. He'll risk on losing out on so much because of that, especially if he passes that on."

"His last apprentice wasn't human."

"Maul?" said Zannah with amusement, "Pfft. He was a tool, nothing more."

"So what, am I just a replacement tool for the one I killed?" spat Siri.

Zannah paused, eyes focusing. "Oh? You killed his little beast?"

Siri grinned, the Force swirly darkly around her, a reminder of the triumph and elation of it. "I did."

"There's what I've been waiting for," purred Zannah before blinking out of existence and reappeared right next to her, finger poking her forehead and into it-

* * *

_Abruptly, the temperature around them plummeted, enough for the Dark Jedi's breathing to suddenly become visible. Something in Siri changed and warped as rage, dark cold rage entered her, followed by deep hate as she glared up at the Dark Jedi._

_The Dark Jedi's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that...?"_

_"You wont touch him," came out a hushed, cold and deadly whisper, parting out Siri's lips like a hiss on a snake's tongue._

_With a furious war cry, Siri's lightsaber flew into her hands, demanded there by the Force at her will. She burst forward, feeling invigorated and empowered, driven by a determination to see this beast **dead** and **her** Obi-Wan safe. She, like he did her Master, took the Dark Jedi completely off-guard. Her first slash knocked aside his saber like it was a twig and cut from his lower right stomach up diagonal across his right breast. It wasn't nearly deep enough for Siri's tastes, but the howl of pain that ripped from his mouth at her saber's searing touch was oh so satisfying. She battered him back, swinging her lightsaber in Force fueled blows that were coming far to heavily to be naturally from her arms. Her foe fell back from each rage fueled strike, naked fear in his eyes. Oh that fear... what a rush!_

_She pursued him, a hungry growl escaping her lips, as he staggered away, looking towards the ship, and for a brief moment, she felt relief and hope emanate from him as he gasped out. "Master!"_

_Siri's eyes briefly flickered to the ship, it's open ramp, but there was nothing there aside from dark shadows, and nothing in the Force that she could sense. She felt disgusted, had some deranged madman really slain her Master? The mere thought of it sent another spike of rage through her as she shot after him. The hope and relief faded, replaced by confusion, then a sensation of anger and betrayal. Whatever aid he expected wasn't coming, wasn't real. He turned back to Siri and met her charge. She swung down in a brutal overhead strike, and he raised his blade to block. For a few split seconds, he held his own, purple and red sabers crossing against one another in a test of strength. But at this point, Siri didn't care about strength, skill, or fair play. She just wanted it **DEAD**!_

_She raised a foot while he was looking up at her saber, and slammed her boot right into his crotch. The beasts eyes bulged as he gasped and staggered back, his lightsaber moving out of line as he lost his focus and concentration. With one swift motion, Siri brought her lightsaber down, severing his sword hand from his body, and then in a smooth spinning backstroke, took his head clean from his body before he could even scream. Dark elation ripped out of her body as she watched his body, his hand, and then his severed head hit the ground. She threw her head back and raised her hands into the air, a triumphant yell escaping her lips..._

* * *

-Siri yelped and shoved, pushing Zannah out of her head a second time. "Stop that!"

Zannah stepped back from her, a look of satisfaction on her face, gleeful interest in her eyes. "Ah... now I see it. What drew Sidious in, made him take a female as an apprentice. You have _such_ potential for a fallen Jedi, you could be everything a Sith needs to be and more. You're not just a tool, he wants you as his real apprentice, and I see why. I would have had _such fun_ with you if you lived in my time."

The Sith scowled. "Except that you chain yourself down to the past, and you hardly push into your potential. I see why he gave my holocron to you."

"What, are you to make me his dutiful little apprentice?" Siri sneered at her.

"That's what he wants," admitting Zannah before going sly, "I'd rather steal you for myself instead."

Siri blinked. "You'd what?"

"Treachery is the way of the Sith," said Zannah nonchalantly, "If he thinks I'm going to bow to his will or do him any favor the way he's so dismissive of me then he has another thing coming. He's not good for the Sith Order, I'd rather nip that in the bud."

"You think he'd ruin the Sith's grand plan to kill the Jedi?" asked Siri.

"Oh far from it," said Zannah, "If he doesn't wipe out the Jedi with how much the Line of Bane has set him up to do so, I'll be shocked, and beyond disappointed. But honestly, the Jedi have grown so complacent it's not even a real challenge anymore, it'll be like playing chess against yourself, with the Jedi as the pawns to sacrifice and throw away. The real danger to the Sith Order is what comes after, how we evolve after we have achieved our revenge. That, is where I believe he will fail."

Zannah grew distant. "I am not as I once was, seeing the threads of the future was never my particular skill despite my adeptness in sorcery, yet... even diminished as I am, I feel that his path will lead to the destruction of the Sith, and anything that picks up the pieces afterwards will never hold the glory and power of what came before."

Zannah refocused on Siri, something dark and alluring drawing the latter's focus. "You hate Sidious with a barely leashed _passion_. It was never meant to be that way, not for the Rule of Two at least, because that way is the way of infighting, killing out of spite rather than readiness. Taking over for Bane was a duty, a responsibility, I was his legacy, as Darth Cognus was mine. Aside from some of the _stupid shit_ he pulled near the end, I never particularly hated him. Hungered to consume and take his position yes, but it wasn't personal. Don't get me wrong, he was never a father figure, but Bane never treated me as a slave, more like his personal hand in the shadows, an extension of his will before I was ready to make that will my own. Honestly, our only real issue came when it was time for me to surpass him, and not how you might suspect."

Siri listened, entranced. "How then?"

Zannah chuckled. "He thought I was unworthy because I hadn't killed him yet, not because I tried or anything. He thought I was waiting for him to weaken with old age, proving me unworthy. Of course, then he went in search of immortality rather than just _tell me_. You have no idea how angry I was when I heard that. It was the closest I ever came to hating him. But...," Zannah smiled maliciously, "...we sorted that out, Bane wanted me to kill him and prove myself, so I gave him what he wanted. Sidious however..."

Zannah spat. "Wants to live forever, rule forever, just like his Master. Aberrations, the both of them, so assured in their victory they have lost sight of what it means to further the goals of the Sith rather than themselves. Furthering the Sith Imperative and furthering your own selfishness must be kept in balance."

"Don't you want to live forever?" pointed out Siri.

Zannah gave a self-depreciating smile. "Not untrue, but I died when my time came for me, I didn't risk the Grand Plan. Not that my bitch of an apprentice ever told me how she went about killing me when she found my Holocron. Regardless, that I still exist as I do isn't a threat to our Order, far from it. I don't follow my own selfishness at the expense of the Rule of Two, as Sidious and his Master do."

She eyed Siri thoughtfully. "You feel more hate towards Sidious than I ever felt to Bane. I can teach you how to make that your strength. I can show you aspects of the Dark Side he never will. He desires to make you his apprentice, but never let you become the Master if he can help it, always keeping you chained to him as his slave. His Master was perhaps to free with the knowledge he gave out, but Sidious will never allow you to grow to the strength you need to be to replace him as the Lord of the Sith, not intentionally, and that will doom the Sith in the long run, because one day, Sidious **_WILL_ ** die, and everything he withheld from his apprentice would be lost, especially if he hides his holocrons where no one can find them."

A pounding echoed in Siri's ears...

"Pledge yourself to _**me**_ ," growled Zannah possessively, reaching out and grasping-yet-not-grasping Siri's chin, a tingle in the Force all Siri could feel in the place of physical contact, "And I will show you the true depths of the Dark Side, powers and abilities and knowledge that not even Sidious knows, I am the last Sith Lord to truly specialize in Sith Sorcery after all..."

Siri swallowed; hushed, luring whispers in the back of her mind, egging her forward, to accept, to _kneel_...

"I'll teach you, correctly and with patience, unlike the other Holocrons that he could have given you," tempted Zannah.

Siri... wanted something to focus on; not the pounding in her head, the howling of the Dark Side in her ears. "Why... is that important to note?"

Zannah rolled her eyes. "Sith Holocrons, as a rule of thumb, are far more... free... with their knowledge than Jedi ones. They'll hand out all the knowledge you desire, even if you are not ready for it, which, more often than not, has destroyed the person who delves to deeply to quickly. It's kind of the point really. But..."

Zannah ran a spectral hand through Siri's hair, the Force ruffling it for her, "I will show you the way."

Siri shivered. The room was so cold...

Zannah brought a thumb up, the spectral digit brushing across Siri's lips. "Kneel."

Siri got off the bed, her entire body is shaking; she knows Zannah is doing _something_ to her, a mere fragment of the Sith's soul or not, the Holocron has power and knowledge... but more important than its dark influence... is that she can give Siri _everything_ she wants... all the knowledge of a Sith Lord, the power, the control... everything a Sith would want... nothing else matters...

_Is that true Siri? What about your friends? What about when she leads you to kill your friends just as Sidious did?_

Siri briefly flinches, the sound of Obi-Wan's voice as her conscience always an aggravating sensation...

She shakes her head, shoving the voice down and away. Zannah can give her everything she needs to kill Sidious, **_nothing_ ** else matters... so she kneels...

"Look up at me," purrs Zannah.

Siri does, and for a moment, that holographic replication of the Sith looks so solidly real, those yellow molten eyes burning just as deeply as Sidious's does. "Pledge yourself to me."

"I..." she began, her voice so dry.

Zannah says nothing, merely waiting, so unlike Sidious with his forcefulness and threats. Zannah doesn't want to force her service, Siri thinks, she wants Siri to willingly offer herself... and she wants it... _you want it so badly don't you?_... but... it's not...

"What... are you doing to me?" whispered Siri.

"Nothing that you don't wish," whispered Zannah back, "I'm merely drawing out who you really are. You're deepest, darkest desires. You're hunger for the dark, for power, pushing back the light that would make you deny yourself. You wish to be taught this, by a teacher who cares."

"Y...your a Sith, you d-don't care," said Siri shakily.

"I care about the success of my line," countered Zannah, "I care about the sovereignty of the Sith."

"I..."

"Do it," hissed Zannah, "Pledge yourself to me, call me... _Master_."

Something... violent rippled through Siri at the last word, and the chill in the room turned into a fire as everything came back into focus. "No."

Zannah blinked a few times. "No?"

Siri shoved the intrusive darkness away that wasn't her own and stood, growing furious at being violated, at being nothing short of seduced towards enslaving herself to another Master. "What's the difference between being his slave or being yours? He dominates and forces me into chains, where you tempt me to put them on myself. What about what _**I**_ want? I'm sick of being forced to the will of others!"

Zannah stared at her for a moment before throwing her head back and howling with laughter. "Oh darling..."

She brought her head back down and grinned savagely. "I'm going to have such _fun_ with you."

Siri glared at Zannah, who merely gave her a sly smile. "Here is your first lesson: Sidious would make you call him Master, but it is up to you whether when that word slips by your lips, it is in service as a slave, or as promise of death, to usurp and surpass. That each act you take in his service is building up to the moment when you kill him and take his place."

"Pledge yourself to his teachings, to the teachings of any who would further your cause," purred Zannah, "But never pledge yourself to them directly. Use them until they've outlived their usefulness, and then, either dispose of them, bend them to your will, or cast them aside."

Siri studied her, weighing the wisdom of her words. "I'll pledge myself to your teachings, but you're not my Master, and if you try to mess with my head again, I'll rip your Holocron to shreds."

Zannah's lips peeled back, darkly amused. "Well said, little Sith to be, but I wouldn't advise the last part, destroying a Sith Holocron can have... rather nasty repercussions, and I myself am not without my defenses."

Siri considers the words. Is there truth to them? Or is Zannah just trying to preserve herself? Does it matter? She's a broken fragment of a soul of a woman long dead, grasping at life like a starving person for food, long past her time. Siri was not going to enslave herself to a pyramid, to an object, something less than Sidious himself. She'll learn whatever Zannah will teach her, and if the Holocron is lucky, Siri might not destroy it when all is said and done.

"Now, how about you tell me what Sidious has _bothered_ to teach you thus far," said Zannah, "And we'll go from there..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter, more Zannah and Siri fun, arguments, and teachings...


	16. The First and the Last (Part 2)

"Could you explain the Rule of Two?" asked Siri, "Because while I like the whole 'one to hold the power the other to crave it' line, I don't understand it that well. It's... supposed to stop infighting? But infighting seems like its entirely forced with just two."

It hadn't taken Siri that long to explain to the Holocron ( _or soul fragment she supposed_ ) what she had learned. She was only a few years into the apprenticeship, but the extreme disapproval radiating from Zannah was... enlightening. Apparently, Sidious was holding back compared to what Zannah would have done.

Zannah raised a very unimpressed eyebrow. "Honestly Sidious... why can he not be bothered to explain the most fundamental part of our line in depth?"

The elder Sith began to pace, the red glow from the Holocron swirling, giving the room an ominous tint. "The Sith Order has always had one specific 'fault', if you will. Sith always turn on eachother, the phrase 'Treachery is the way of the Sith' is not embellished in the slightest. Always, when victory seems assured, we betray one another, and the Jedi swoop in for victory. Or an old betrayal causes things to fall apart later, case and point being Darth Traya."

"Who?"

Zannah waved a dismissive hand. "Insane old bat. Her apprentices betrayed her and cast her out, only for her to come back and train their destroyer, when they had come so close to completely wiping the Jedi Order out. What the heck was that Jedi's name... Sarick? Sulrik? Surik? Something, doesn't matter. Sith were plagued with mass betrayal, limiting our number down to two, save for when the apprentice is selecting their own in preparation of usurping the Master, fixes this."

"And how does training someone who is guaranteed to betray you fix the issue of betrayal?"

Zannah grinned. "It sounds like it makes no sense on paper, doesn't it?"

"Just a bit."

Zannah crossed her arms, a dark look crossing her face. "It's not about betrayal, it's about mass betrayal. Or betraying at an ill-opportune time. With many Sith, the unworthy can team up to kill a more powerful target who is worthy. Then, when the dust settles, the so called team turns on eachother like rabid animals, and all that's left is a pathetic specimen where once there was someone who could have improved upon the Sith."

Zannah scowled. "For the other instance, say... Darth Revan and Darth Malak, serve as an excellent example. Revan and Malak were crushing the Jedi Order and the Republic, had Malak not betrayed Revan when he did, in the middle of an important battle, the pair would have gone on to almost assuredly destroy the Republic and convert it into a Sith Empire, one to challenge the one that turned them."

A devious smile crossed her face. "I would have paid good money to see two Sith Empires fight to the death."

She turned to face Siri. "The Rule of Two does not function like this. There are only two fully trained Sith out at a time. Betraying your Master before you have learned all or most of their secrets is like intentionally crippling yourself. Without others to conspire with, there are less... foolish encouragements to try early and get yourself killed. You have to be careful in how you betray your Master, because if it's openly, you risk revealing the Sith Order and upsetting the Grand Plan. Out of sight, out of mind, far away from the prying eyes of the Jedi is when the confrontation should be made. Betraying your Master when they are in the middle of an important stage of the Grand Plan is also foolish. It should be when their use has either come to an end, or you can handle things without them."

"Not that I have any inclination to spare Sidious, why kill your Master?" asked Siri, puzzled, "Surely they'd still be of help to the Grand Plan even in old age?"

"While not incorrect," admitted Zannah, "A Sith cannot be weak, we must be tested, pushed to our limits and beyond. Almost no Jedi would serve such a challenge at the stage of mastery for a Dark Lord of the Sith, save perhaps their current Grandmaster, but that's not going to happen unless its time for the Grand Plan to be enacted. The only other source of challenge, to prove ourselves worthy, is to defeat our Masters. To kill and take their place, proving ourselves."

Siri crossed her arms. "It still seems stupid and a waste of resources. Not to mention, dare I say it, a risk to your Grand Plan."

"How so?" asked Zannah, cocking her head.

"You're having two insanely powerful beings go head to head against one another," said Siri flatly, how could the Sith not see this? "What if they kill eachother, or the apprentice is permanently crippled in the encounter despite killing their Master? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

Not to mention if one of the Sith turn from the Dark Side? Not that she was a full Sith yet, as Sidious loved to point oue, but she... had almost done that for Ur Manka...

_You should have..._

"Well...," said Zannah slowly, with a hint of surprised chagrin, "You're not wrong, there is a risk. However, each generation of Sith is stronger than the last, the apprentice is generally always going to surpass and destroy the master. At no point, in the duration of our line, has that ever became a problem, to my knowledge."

"Still stupid," grumbled Siri.

"Well, when you're the Dark Lord of the Sith, do something about it," snapped Zannah snidely, "The Rule of Two was made to destroy the Republic and the Jedi. Whether it continues to be the best way of life for the Sith afterwards, who knows. So long as the Sith reign dominant over the Galaxy, our form doesn't really matter if but for once in our existence we can get our shit together long enough to destroy the Jedi and _win_."

"Which you say is a given at this point."

"It should be, but I have half the mind to think Sidious is going to kriff it up somehow," Zannah snubbed before sighing, "Ah forget it, I'm just a bit stressed I suppose."

"How can a Holocron get stressed?" Siri asked, a bit skeptical.

"Hey! I've got part of a soul," said Zannah with a pout before getting serious, "We're so close, I can feel it. You may... _will,_ be the last true apprentice before the Grand Plan is enacted," She glances at her Holocron and then Siri, amusement crossing her face, "The first and the last, fate or Force perhaps."

Siri snorted. "Melodramatic."

Zannah flashed a grin. "Only sometimes, darling."

Okay, Siri was really starting to get confused. "Why do you act like that?" asked Siri, "Silly and coy one moment, full on Sith Lord the next?"

Zannah's grin turned feral. "It's part of my charm darling. It throws of my opposition, makes people uncertain how to act to me, makes them underestimate me, or perhaps infuriate them in the middle of a situation. Dun Moch is quite fun after all."

"Dun what?"

Zannah made a face. "Oh Force, come on Sidious! This is basic knowledge! How could he not teach you this yet?"

"Kriffing slacker," muttered Zannah before speaking up, "Dun Moch is the art of distracting your opponent in battle, though it has applications elsewhere. Typically with taunts, jeers, and jests to expose their weakness. To make them doubt themselves, their beliefs, their intentions. It's especially useful against Force Sensitives, as such doubts disrupt their connection to the Force. Concentration is incredibly important for Jedi, and Sith too I suppose; breaking it has wonderful effects for their opponents."

Siri blinked a few times. "Oh. That... sounds useful..."

She thought of Bruck and Obi-Wan, how Bruck used to always taunt Obi-Wan and make him angry, how it had always gotten Obi-Wan in trouble with the Masters...

"Very useful," she murmured, examining the concept in her mind, "Could you teach me this? I assume its more than just throwing random insults out."

"Dun Moch, is in essence, psychological warfare," said Zannah slowly, "It requires both an understanding of who and what your opponent is, what drives them, what has made them who they are, their thoughts and feelings, and how you may use those against them. And that is only the active part."

Zannah placed a hand against her own chest. "I incorporate it into my very being. How I act, how I speak, how I move around others."

She turned sly. "Never doubt the power of swinging those hips of yours, or bending in a certain way. The female body is an amazing weapon that has defeated more than one man for me before I even opened my mouth or drew a weapon."

Siri flushed a bit.

Zannah laughed. "Oh little one, you have so much to learn. We'll get to Dun Moch, among other things, in time. There is so much to teach, from my own skillset, from what I learned about ancient Sith Lords..."

"Whose your favorite Sith Lord of old?" asked Siri.

Zannah looked rather surprised, then pleased, then sheepish about the question. "Well, I might be a bit biased, but Freedon Nadd. His writings and doctrines are, after all, what kick-started my delving into Sith Sorcery."

"Sith... Sorcery?" asked Siri.

Zannah licked her lips slowly. "In time young one, you're not quite ready. You need a bit of practical experience first. To that end..."

The Holocron waved a hand at the door, and Siri felt it unlock. So it hadn't been Sidious keeping her in here...

"Now, do you have something like a string or a necklace that you could attach my Holocron to?" asked Zannah, "I wish to... personally guide your training."

Siri rummaged around the room eagerly. Zannah promised to teach so much to her...

"But before we go out," said Zannah, watching hungrily as Siri moved to put the Holocron on a cord and slipped it around her neck and under her tunic, "Perhaps I should properly mask us. A Sith's Holocron's presence is difficult to hide after all."

Siri watched, curious, as Zannah chanted something under her breath in the Sith Tongue. She felt the Force swirl darkly from the Holocron, yet, it was _different_. She wasn't sure she's ever felt the Force so intently focused, assigned to one sole purpose. She gasped when she feels nothing short of a second skin wrap around herself though nothing is physically there. She felt it probe her Force Signature, and then not only copy it, but... Siri was **_gobsmacked_**. She probed the skin with amazement and disbelief.

She feels null.

Force Null.

And she can find no weakness in the facade, it feels natural. It is her, as if she didn't have the Force. She probes for her own mind through it, and finds a facsimile. It feels... normal. There are no mental shields to it. It echoes surface thoughts, but nothing deeper. It is so astoundingly perfect, no Jedi, even if they probed around a bit, would find anything wrong. One would have to be looking really deep, deep enough that it would cause pain and damage to an individual's mind, to find anything wrong, which is something a Jedi wouldn't do.

"How...," she whispered.

"Sith Sorcery is an amazing thing," teased Zannah before her voice turned seductive, "Full of purpose and focus, powers and abilities beyond your wildest dreams and desires. Now, lets pretty myself up."

Siri watched as again, Zannah chanted under her breath and waved a hand. The Holocron's red-light disappeared, but Zannah stayed out, and looked... more solid?

Siri yelped when Zannah _physically_ smacked her shoulder. "Alright then! Lets be off."

"You... you... what?!" exclaimed Siri.

"What? You act like its hard," teased Zannah, "All I did was compact particles around my image. It's a play on illusions, making something appear and feel and sound like it's not."

Siri hesitated, reaching out and touching the Holocron's arm, amazed at how real it felt. It felt like cloth under her arms, she trailed her fingers up, touching skin at the neck, it felt so real...

"Can... can you teach me this?" Siri whispered in awe.

"Ah... we have a potential disciple of sorcery do we?" asked Zannah in a hushed voice, a hungry look in her eyes, "Good, good. Yes, you'll learn Sorcery alright."

Her voice turned possessive. "You'll be **_my_ ** heir. A credit more to **_my_ ** teachings than Sidious's."

Siri shivered at the possessiveness, but didn't turn away from it. She wanted everything Zannah would offer and more. She wouldn't give the relic the pleasure of being called Master, but, she'd still learn.

"Now come, I already told Sidious I'd be stealing you for awhile, I have his, _permission_ ," spat Zannah, "To take you on a few trips."

Siri trailed behind the physical-gatekeeper, still awed by how real she had made herself appear with sorcery. The sound of rustling clothes, of breathing, of footsteps, the way the holocron could interact with things...

"Isn't this kind of the immortality you'd desire?" asked Siri, "You can go about and..."

"It's not real Siri," cut off Zannah, just a tang of frustration in her voice, "I can deceive others..."

The Sith appeared uncomfortable for a moment. "But not myself. I'm disembodied, I can't feel a damn thing. And it's risky to take my Holocron out into the world. If it's destroyed, I'm gone."

Siri went silent and followed the Sith out of the compound and into the lower levels of Coruscant. "Now, watch a Master at work..."

* * *

And Siri did watch. Sometimes close, sometimes at a distance ( _but not to far, Zannah's gatekeeper needed to be at least somewhat close to the Holocron_ ) as the elder Sith interacted with the low lives of Coruscant. She pressed everything she could to memory, how Zannah acted depending on who she was interacting with. Coy, innocent, flirty, aggressive, teasing, anything and everything. Within a few hours, Zannah had a small gang wrapped around her finger, her charm, and a little bit of dark whispers from her Holocron, enslaving them to her will without them even realizing it.

"Darling," she whispered into the ear of their leader, "I came to you for more than your good looks."

The man, a hardened burly thug of a twi-lek leaned forward and kissed the illusion, lips crashing against Zannah, a hand coming to cup a breast through her tunic, making Siri flush, yet again. "And why's that, beautiful?"

"I heard whispers," Zannah purred, leaning into him, running a hand along his face, fingers, brushing softly against his lekku in a tempting manner, "Of a rival gang, wanting to kill you, take your men and your territory."

The man growled, grasping her hand. "Who? Where?"

And Zannah grinned, weaving her tale. "It was in the run down park a level up, five clicks to the east, I think they called themselves the..."

"The Red Engines," snarled the leader, "Stupid Swoop Gang thinks they can get in on **_MY_ ** turf?"

"They are rather stupid, aren't they?" purred Zannah, "To try to challenge my powerful, handsome man."

The Twi-lek puffed up a bit. "Yeah, I think we'll be teaching them a lesson _real_ soon."

He glanced over at Siri. "I'll get my men ready, you and your sister can stay here while we take care of business. We got food in the back if you get hungry."

Zannah waited until the man was gone, yelling angrily into his comlink, before rolling her hands and wiping off her fake-lips. "Men, so easy to play, and-oh come on, stop acting like a prude!"

"You let him touch you like that!" Siri exclaimed.

Zannah shrugged. "Your point being what? I just started a gang war for the hell of it in not even a half day of work with nothing but words, my good looks, and a very tiny use of the Force."

Zannah sat down on a crate and tilted her head back. "Can't really tell if they've gotten stupider over the years, I thought I'd have to at least work for it for a few days. Group's a bit sexist though, no woman of rank to try and counter my influence I suppose. Complacent too, not used to subterfuge."

The Sith crossed one leg over the other, staring at Siri. "The point is, that you must use anything and everything to your advantage. I carried on a multitude of deceptions for decades, both before and after I became the Master. Everything in order to further the goals of myself and the Sith."

"How can you hide it all though?" asked Siri, "There's been some conflicts yes, but, nothing major to show that you're working against the Republic. Surely there had to be some indication..."

Zannah howled with laughter. "Oh Siri, you don't get it, do you? The Sith have been propping up the Republic! Causing their opponents to act early and get themselves destroyed, or doing so ourselves. The reason the Republic and the Jedi are so stagnant is that we've indirectly encouraged it, destroying those who would force the Republic to change. And while they stay the same, we chisel away at the foundations. Not that it's hard to encourage their complacency, both the Republic and the Jedi want things to stay the way they are. Meanwhile, we adapt, we learn, we grow, we spread our influence and continue to gain in wealth, in knowledge, understanding, and power."

"And the Sith have been doing it for almost a thousand years," murmured Siri, understanding slowly and truly starting to dawn on her, the scope and complexity of it all, "They're pretty much going to roll over and let the Sith slit their throats."

"No doubt, we've already been influencing most major bills in the senate, or at least I assume that's still standard procedure since the last Lord of the Sith saw fit to appraise me of the Grand Plan's progress," mused Zannah, "All we need is a bit more setup, to get in a position of power either within the Senate to corrupt it into an Empire, or within a foreign power that will topple the Republic, and then a conflict, a war, that the Republic no longer has the experience, the will, the understanding, of how to face. We will come, as saviors or conquerors, perhaps both, who knows, and in the twilight of the conflict, both the Republic and the Jedi, will **_die_**..."

* * *

Zannah's lessons didn't stay onworld, taking a small ship of Sidious's for a spin.

After about a week of driving the Coruscant underworld into a frenzy that spilled into riots, Zannah took her leave, Siri in a mesmerized tow, before peacekeepers and Jedi arrived to try and mend the situation. So much influence... so much control... so much damage. Zannah did it all with practiced experience and ease. Siri couldn't help but crave to possess that power and skill herself. But Zannah wouldn't allow it yet.

"You still have so much to learn and experience before you try yourself," teased Zannah, "I still have so much to show you."

"So, where are we going then?" asked Siri, watching Zannah punch in an unfamiliar set of coordinates.

"To an old hideout of mine," said Zannah, "If we're lucky, it should be relatively undisturbed."

"Even after all this time?" asked Siri.

"Well, I don't think I got around to revealing it to my apprentice before she killed me," admitted Zannah, "I stored some of my artifacts there. Most importantly..."

Zannah watched Siri's face carefully, "It's where I stored Freedon Nadd's scriptures."

Siri's heart felt like it stopped for a split second, a hushed, hungry whisper escaping her lips, "His... his scriptures...?"

"Tell me, what exactly do you know of him?" asked Zannah.

"I know that he was an ancient Sith Lord," said Siri, "Sidious told me he was a... magician of sorts? I'm assuming he was referencing Sith Sorcery."

"What else?"

"That he... trained Exar Kun?" said Siri, "He wasn't exactly clear on that, I'm assuming he meant his holocron."

Zannah shook her head. "No, that was meant quite literally. Sith are a stubborn lot, and more often that not, linger through pure strength of will, or ritual. His spirit educated Exar Kun, until he saw now more use of the ancient Sith and killed his spirit."

"So... he was like a ghost?"

"You could say that," mused Zannah, "What else do you know?"

"That's... roughly it," admitted Siri, watching Zannah scowl darkly, "Sidious didn't get to indepth with the ancient Sith, just basic history and roughly how it led to the Rule of Two."

Zannah huffed. "I'll go more indepth eventually, but not now, as a summary: Freedon Nadd was taught by Naga Sadow, who was taught by Lord Simus, former rival of Marka Ragnos. Sadow became the heir of Marka Ragnos, becoming the Sith Emperor of his time after disposing of his rival. He led the first war against the Republic before his defeat. He trapped himself in suspended animation, before Freedon found and awoke him thousands of years later. He studied at Sadow's foot until had learned all he could, then disposed of him."

Siri let a swallow pass down her throat as Zannah dropped the name of one legendary Sith Lord after the other _(though she had never heard of Simus_ ). "Like Exar Kun did to him, and so many did afterwards, leading to you."

Zannah nodded. "I was the last true master of Sith Sorcery. Others who came after me have dabbled somewhat into it, but none have rivaled me yet."

She grew snide. "Not even Sidious."

"So... it would give me an advantage over him then," said Siri hungrily.

"Potentially," said Zannah, "But, don't count it as guaranteed. He may have found other sources besides Freedon's scriptures, and while he may not personally know all the spells and incantations, he may have defenses against them you would not expect."

Zannah motioned to the hyperspace passing them by out the window. "Now, we have a few days before we get there, and I need to instruct you on how to handle the scriptures. They're kept in an enchanted tome, meant to protect them against the passage of time. I suspect the magic might have worn a bit by now. When we arrive, you must be very careful in how you handle them. They are not to be exposed to sunlight, nor fresh air, at least until their protections can be redone. There are... some limitations to my state of existence, some incantations that require a full-living essence to preform. You must learn them before we arrive. Come."

Siri followed her into the bedroom of the small ship they had been loaned, sitting on the bed as Zannah began to pace. "Now, first you must learn the words, repeat the first verse carefully after me: Kia drastâdisini tave stuyi iv amzi."

Siri shivered, hearing the Sith Tongue from an actual Dark Lord was... something else. "To withstand the test of time."

"In Sith," said Zannah mildly, "And be careful of your pronunciations. It must be _precise_."

It took a little over an hour of Zannah's intense scrutiny to say the words 'just' the right way. "Now, you must imagine in your mind, a veil of dark protection, destroying anything that would dare to defile the knowledge within. Will your possessiveness into the thought, your hunger and greed. Then, comes the second verse: Merji is itsu kia nuyak valia."

_Bound in chains to my will..._

It was quicker to learn this time, having started to grow used to Zannah's tongue in Sith.

"Then, you must will it so, feel the power and worth of what you desire," elated Zannah, "Linking your power in the Force to the object, wrapping it in your will, before the final verse: Zo jen' jenja kia muqurmyr kam buti manosi."

_A dark shield to safeguard what is mine..._

"Then, and only then, do you release your will to the Force, demanding it do as you will. Assuming you do it right, the spell will briefly manifest around the tome, like a dark bubble, before sinking into it," instructed Zannah, "It won't require you to maintain an active connection to it afterwards, but occasionally it serves to renew the enchantment. Now... I want to see you practice this, again and again, until we arrive..."

* * *

The world they came across was some undescript festering hellhole if Siri was asked. From space, it looked like a muddy green, covered in swampland, and seas, with very few clear landmasses. Zannah directed her to one. The moment they set down and exited the ship in a clearing that was 'supposedly' a few miles off from Zannah's former hideout, the elder Sith grew hostile. "Someone else is here."

Siri was relatively thankful that Zannah's masking spell was still around her. She carefully probed around the area, further and further out, until she felt a presence. It was... darkened, light receding quickly. Vaguely familiar in that Siri might have met it once.

"A dark Jedi," murmured Zannah, "Investigate."

Zannah grew more and more pensive, her fury tightly leashed, as they drew closer to the Dark Jedi. "He's near my hideout. It's possible he might have stumbled upon it. Either before he fell, lured to it's darkness, or perhaps the cause of his fall. How he came to this planet is, however, a mystery in itself."

They arrived some time later, after they tracked through marshland, Siri's clothing wet and stinking foul from the bog. Overlooking from a cliff in a dry area, a small canyon. It was filled with rocks and rubble, but looked as if someone had cleared a path to the bottom of it, rocks and foliage turned aside. At the bottom was a cave entrance, and exiting from it, was a hooded human man in ruined Jedi robes. Siri could feel a fanatical mad edge to him. He had done what Zannah had warned her of, delved to deeply and quickly into dark secrets he wasn't ready to know.

Siri knelt and peered down at him, noting the silver flash of a lightsaber hilt, and a second one on the other side of his belt, longer and dark, a saberstaff.

Zannah hissed, indignant. "That's my lightsaber! That unworthy craved dares to rob me...?"

Then her eyes went wide with shock and fear. "The tome!"

Siri's eyes shifted, noting a dark, blood red glyph covered book gripped tightly between his hands.

Zannah absolutely lost her shit. "HE TOOK IT OUT OF THE CAVE! THAT STUPID IDIOT! KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW AND GET IT BACK INSIDE BEFORE HE DAMAGES IT!"

The dark Jedi looked up, startled at Zannah's howling, and set the book down on a rock, drawing both his blue lightsaber, and Zannah's double-bladed red one. "Whose there?!"

Siri vaulted down, igniting her lightsaber and dragging it down the cliffwall to slow her descent before she landed and leaped, rock after rock, towards the dark Jedi. Her rage was boiling. This **_IDIOT_ ** might have damaged the tome! Might have lost Siri who knows how much knowledge and power! She fed off that anger and growing hate as they closed the distance towards one another. The Dark Jedi lashed out, stabbing with his blue lightsaber while twirling Zannah's overhead. Siri parried aside the blow, spun out of the downward slash of the saberstaff, and then stabbed. Her red lightsaber piercing into the man's thigh. He howled and staggered, slashing wildly...

And Siri watched, bemused, as the idiot bisected himself with the saberstaff. "Well... guess that's why you don't use those without specialized training."

"THE BOOK!" roared Zannah from high above.

Siri briefly paused to collect Zannah's lightsaber, and then took off with a sprint, carefully grabbing the book and delving into the cave. It led to a tunnel that was partially submerged. She clipped Zannah's lightsaber to her belt, and held the tome high overhead as she waddled through. At the far end was a broken door leading into an underground complex. It looked like a lightsaber had carved into it.

Zannah's form materialized next to Siri and barked out, "Follow!"

Siri ran behind Zannah through dark or dimly lit corridors into a dusty looking study room, a illuminating glowstick dropped carelessly the center. There were clusters of old datapads, tools, objects, and more scattered around.

"Close the door," hissed Zannah.

Siri did so.

"Bring the tome to the desk," said Zannah, motioning to one, and watching critically as Siri did so.

"Don't even open it to check, we don't know if this was the first time he took the tome out or not, if it's weathered the air and sunlight for to long, it might damage the pages to do so," warned Zannah, "Do the incantation, _then_ open it to check for damages."

Siri took a deep breath, slowly letting it out, focusing her attention on the tome of unfathomable power. Her ticket, her ascension into Sith Sorcery on the line. She held a hand over it and whispered in a harsh tongue. "Kia drastâdisini tave stuyi iv amzi."

She levitated the book into the air carefully, her hands moving through the air around it circularly. She imagined a dark sphere, within it, the book would rest. She imagined the Dark Jedi that had endangered the tome, and wrapped her fury, her rage, her hate of that fool around the tome as shell for it to rest in. She placed her spite of all that would damage it as a weapon just as much as a shield, that the tome was **_HERS_** , it was her possession! No one else's!

The air shivered around her, the Force whispering darkly into her ear.

The second verse ripped through her lips like a dark torrent. "Merji is itsu kia nuyak valia."

She imagined the power it would grant her. The few hints that Zannah had given out thus far, the few spells the woman had cast. How Siri hungered for them and more. Limitless possibility to give her ever desire. She poured that into her mind as she let lose the final verse. "Zo jen' jenja kia muqurmyr kam buti manosi."

And Siri released it, and felt the Force scream around them, wailing like a damned choir as the sphere of dark energy she had imagined appeared around the tome. Slowly, it shrank, glistening as it settled into the book. She gently levitated it down, and shakily sank to her knees, feeling drained.

"Good, good," rasped Zannah, "Very good for your first spell, and with such _purpose_. You have promise, Siri Tachi, such great promise."

Zannah redid her physical illusion spell, muttering quietly under her breath, before she sat down at the desk and carefully opened the book, hissing with anger. "That fool!"

Siri staggered to her feet and loomed worriedly over Zannah's shoulder. The pages were worn, a little bleached, somewhat crinkled, ink runny here and there. "Is it salvageable?"

Zannah carefully flipped through a few pages before nodding and pointing across the room. "Yes. Go get me some flimsi and an inkpot. I'm going to need to redo a number of the pages, thankfully they still seem mostly legible, and I think I remember the ones that arn't quite fully there anymore."

Zannah grumbled as Siri obeyed. "Dammit, any later than we were, and this would have been lost to us. I should have had us come here first. That bastard would have destroyed all that knowledge due to incompetence and pranced off with my lightsaber. I can't even fathom where it would have ended up..."

Siri swayed for a moment as the Force took her, she saw the Dark Jedi from earlier facing off against some cyborg monstrosity with four arms and lightsabers, losing, and the cyborg taking the lightsaber. She shook it off, it wasn't going to happen. Though, she thought to be mindful of whatever the hell that cyborg was if she ever came across it. She delivered the crinkly flimsi, almost as ancient as the book, but in better condition.

"Don't touch anything else while I work," warned Zannah, "I need to carefully go over the area afterwards to check for protections and some of my old traps."

Siri took it as an exercise in patience as Zannah painstakingly restored the tome hour by hour, day by day. The Dark Jedi had brought a few supplies which she had found in a nearby starfighter. Foot and clean water she had to scavenge herself, ( _mostly relying on boiling swampwater_ ) her own ship had a supply, but she'd rather not drain it unless necessary. Finally, when it was done, Zannah bid her draw close, the study room dimly lit with old candles.

"It will take time to refurbish and repair this place," said Zannah slowly, "But, if you so desire, I will bequeath it to you."

"I would," said Siri, giddy at the thought of having her own secret hideout, a thing of children's tails, but so much more here and now.

Zannah nodded. "Now, we're a little behind schedule since I had to burn time repairing this, so for now, we will focus our efforts on your initial lessons in sorcery. In time, you will have the opportunity to restore and explore this place and study the tome. It **_isn't_** living this place. I'll also need to spend time leaving traps for further would be robbers, you'll help with this."

"Why the rush?" asked Siri.

"Sidious gave me a timetable," admitted Zannah, "I will teach you what I can, but then we have to move onto the next stage of your training before Sidious wants you back."

"What's the next stage?"

"It's not what, but where." Zannah's smile was all daggers, and the word she spoke sent a chilling excitement down Siri's spine. "Korriban..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand back down the rabbit hole Siri goes. Threw in a reference to Star War's Galaxies with Zannah's lightsaber being pilfered by a Dark Jedi.
> 
> Anyway, we have 1 more chapter of this (part 3), and then maybe 1 or 2 more chapters with a showing of how damning Siri is going to start being towards herself, and a check in for Obi-Wan before we hit the next time skip (potentially a larger one). Thinking about heading for the Phantom Menace finally. IDK, we'll see. We already have a run down of how Siri's training and missions will go, not sure we need a full play by play, could come in as memories or flashbacks later on, I'll think on it.


	17. The First and the Last (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Mixing a bit of Legends and Clone Wars together for a certain scene later on.

The time spent in Zannah's-no- _Siri's_ hideout ended all to soon for her tastes.

She had been taught a few basic incantations; first and foremost was dabbling in illusions. An incantation worked a bit differently than just straight up projecting the illusion into the mind of the target, something even Jedi could do, such as Yarael Poof if Siri recalled correctly. Sith Sorcery could wrap the illusion around Siri herself, rather than relying on being able to affect an opponent's mind, though she could do that quicker than relying on an incantation. Siri could confidently mask her appearance to something nondescript and average. How to mask her appearance as someone else however would require studying someone intensely, and perhaps getting a skin, blood, or hair sample if she wanted it to be really convincing.

Zannah told her she should abduct someone off the streets either during an upcoming missions or downtime and practice.

She learned how to assault the senses and mind of another. Brute force mental battering through the Force was wasteful, and easily repelled. Zannah spoke of sharp, pinpoint precision strikes, like a needle to pierce into shields and inject the Dark Side in like a virus. It could distort the area around the victim, disturbing their sense of sight, hearing, smell, and touch. If she got that off in the middle of a lightsaber duel, well... it was pretty much over if she could capitulate on it.

Finally, Zannah spoke of Mental Domination. Not Force Persuasion, but actual domination, to be able to Force them to do things they would never willingly do. Zannah spoke fondly of making families and friends slaughter eachother, or sign away their wealth and property, or betray their supposed allies. Things of that nature. While Siri wasn't close to it yet, Zannah spoke of mind-slaves, creating a network of sleeper-agents that could be bent to her will and activated with phrases or her power. It was... so chilling and yet enticing to even think of it. Churning guilt, apprehension, and yet greedy longing.

Of course, this was all, according to Zannah, basic stuff, and things Siri would have to master before she came back for more. So, they hid the tome of Freedon Nadd behind a false wall in the base, and left. Though, there was one thing Siri did bring with her...

She sat in the cargo hold of the ship, fiddling with Zannah's saberstaff. It... called to her. The Kyber in it was... something else, something _powerful_. It felt nothing like a Jedi's kyber, nor even like the kyber Siri had bled herself. She loosely probed the crystal, feeling the echoes of it's previous owners. Zannah, she vaguely identified as being a more complete echo, and someone else, someone immensely powerful and dark, intensely focused and dominating.

"It's called Bane's Heart."

Siri looked up to see Zannah's form materialize from her Holocron, red light illuminating the area. "My Master gave it to me, and I constructed my lightsaber around it. Both the lightsaber and the kyber inside it bear the same name. Extensions of his will, echoes of his power and instruction."

Zannah's lips peeled back into a sneer. "No matter how much I tried to dominate it myself, it still always held out in connection to it's old master, even after he died."

"It's still connected to you too," pointed out Siri.

"I suppose it is," mused Zannah, "The kyber is picky in who it accepts, and when it does, you're bound to it."

The Sith tilted her head thoughtfully. "It seems to have a thing for you."

Siri ran a hand along the lightsaber, touching the crystal again with the Force. It hummed, not screamed, but hummed at contact. It wasn't... broken, not like a normal crystal at least. It had chosen it's path, and right now, it chose her. She fell into meditation, pulling her emotions to herself in a swirl and then the crystal's force presence. She bound herself to it, and it to her. It whispered of promise and power, if she would learn to wield and treat it right. She was more than willing to accept.

When she pulled out of her meditation, Zannah was still watching her. "Do you want to make your own lightsaber with it?"

Siri saw no hint of emotion for or against it in Zannah's face. She didn't answer directly, eying Zannah's lightsaber thoughtfully. "What form did you use?"

"I used Form III almost exclusively, though I was versed in others."

Siri gaped a bit. "Wait, what? A Sith specialized in Soresu?!"

Zannah scoffed. "Why not? Do I look like a muscle bound brute who could use Djem So or the other more aggressive forms? No, patience, cunning, and quickness were my strengths in a fight. I mastered the form to such a degree that the rhythms of it became a matter of instinct. I could focus on using force techniques and my sorcery mid battle, trusting the defensive walls I could make with my lightsaber to cover me."

"Well, when you put it like that, Soresu does seem like it should be favored by a Sith Sorceress," admitted Siri.

"Perhaps, what forms are you proficient with?" asked Zannah.

"I've been learning Makashi," said Siri.

Zannah nodded. "Good for facing Jedi I suppose. It could serve you well."

Siri bit her lip, struggling a little bit with indecision. "Well... do you think you... could teach me how to wield your lightsaber?"

"No," said Zannah flatly, though... there was something in her tone...

Siri scowled at her. "Why not?"

"Because its custom made for one," said Zannah, "Its not even an average saberstaff, the handle is elongated even more than normal, and the blades are shorter. It sacrifices reach and leverage, but allows greater speed and maneuverability."

"You're point being what exactly?" asked Siri, it sounded like the Sith was making a sales pitch rather than trying to shake her off it, "Do you doubt I wouldn't put in the time, patience, and effort to learn how to wield it?"

"It's _**MINE**_! Take the crystal and make your own," huffed Zannah.

"Possessive much?" jabbed Siri, "Besides, it's not like you're going to be using it again."

Zannah glowered at her, though her lips were twitching...

Siri squinted at her suspiciously. "You're playing again. You want me to wield it."

Zannah's glower turned into a sheepish grin. "Maybe."

She grew serious. "But a saberstaff, especially mine, is nothing to fool around with. You need to have a firm understanding of how to position yourself, and how to wield your chosen form, before you use it. You need a... long stick, or a staff, to practice with before hand so your mistakes don't lop a limb off. And we have oodles of kata's to go through for Soresu."

"I um... have some experience with Soresu," admitted Siri, thinking back to her time with Ur Manka.

"Oh? Show me then," ordered Zannah, "I'll see what you know, and build from there. We have a few days until Korriban, so let's make the most of it."

For the next hour, Siri went through the katas with her own lightsaber, Zannah's critical eye on her as her lightsaber moved in tight motions, subtly dodging imaginary blaster bolts, parrying aside fake blades, until she called for an end to it. "You have the basics down, now, go through Makashi, I have... an idea forming."

She did so, careful cuts, viscous and precise stabs, parrying aside imaginary blows...

"Right there," mused Zannah, "Is perfect."

"I don't think I'm that good," said Siri with a pout, knowing it wasn't what she was going for, but trying a bit of Zannah's flair for herself. She kind of liked it.

Zannah grinned. "Not what I was talking about. Tell me, you understand, in essence, what economy of motion and energy efficiency mean, correct?"

Siri nodded. "Yeah, trying not to wastefully burn energy, following natural rhythms of your body, taking actions in a fight that require less effort, conserving stamina."

"Makashi focuses more in fluidity, Soresu more in energy efficiency, but they still use a lot of the same principles, specifically economy of motion, just going about using it differently," said Zannah, "One of my weaknesses, loath as I am to admit it, was when I was the primary aggressor in an encounter. Taking the offensive, rather than countering into it, is rather difficult with an defensive form."

Her gaze turned sharp. "Now, if you could mix and mingle those two forms together... well... that brings up possibilities, doesn't it?"

Siri frowned thoughtfully. "Hmmm."

"Or, if not fully mix them, you can easily lead in from one form to another. After a Soresu parry, taking an opponent offbalanced, rather than a simple counter attack you switch into precise, deadly strikes, a single mistake made by an enemy would be immediately and lethally taken advantage of," elaborated Zannah, "Or if you find yourself overwhelmed, your precision thrown off, you switch into defensiveness until you see the opportunity to retake the offensive. Think of it Siri, impenetrable defense, followed up with deadly precision when your opponent tires or slips up in a fight."

"It is tempting," admitted Siri before making a face, "Something to experiment with down the road. I'll need to figure out Makashi with a saberstaff first before I even think of mixing them."

"You seem to think that'd be a problem?" inquired Zannah.

"I recall Master Dooku, he's **_the_ ** Makashi wielder of the Jedi Order, commenting once that it's inferior with Jar'Kai and even a saberstaff," said Siri, "He taught a class I was in once."

Zannah scoffed. "Sounds biased, a personal dislike. Any form can be utilized with any kind of saber if you're creative enough. Makashi demands precision, something you need anyway with a saberstaff to not lop a limb off. You need immense technical awareness of yourself and your weapon to use either."

Zannah cracked her holographic knuckles. "Alright then, lets get to work. Theoretical lightsaber applications aside, you need practice.

So practice she did, all the way to Korriban...

* * *

The moment they exited hyperspace, Siri felt _**it**_.

Felt the Dark Side echoing through space in a way she had never felt before, calling her, beckoning her. Her heartbeat sped up, feeling as if something dangerous had just laid eyes on her, predators upon their prey. She felt like she was in the High Council's chambers, eyes of those much more wiser and powerful upon her, judging her. Except these eyes weren't light, weren't calm, and didn't have a fraction of compassion in them. The sensation only grew stronger and stronger as they drew closer to the red desert planet.

Siri's hands were shaking as they entered the atmosphere, and it wasn't from the ship rattling. Zannah's glowing form seemed to grow deeper and darker, more red to it's form, looking harsh, deadly, terrifying. Emotions started slipping out of Siri's control, fear and apprehension the foremost, her breathing picking up it's pace. Zannah merely smiled savagely at her as she directed Siri towards their destination. When they landed, Zannah led her to the landing ramp before coming to a stop.

"You will be leaving me here," ordered Zannah.

Siri gave a start. "What? Why?"

"Well, frankly, I've been awake an absurd amount of time," said Zannah matter-of-factually, "I could use a nice nap."

Then she grew dark. "And this isn't about me, it's about _you_. Your task is simple: Survive for three days alone on Korriban in the Valley of the Dark Lords. No more, no less. You are allowed to bring nothing with you but your lightsaber, and mine I suppose if you really want to, those that dwell here might find that interesting, one in particular."

"Dwell?" asked Siri, struggling to control her rising unease, "People live here?"

"The dead do," commented Zannah, eyeing Siri, "I told you already, Sith don't go quietly into the night. They linger, long past their due, in any way they can manage. The whispers that echo through the tombs here are not fake, are not paranoid jitters. I will give you no further warning save to remember what I have taught you thus far."

Siri nodded slowly, taking Zannah's holocron off her neck and setting it down on the floor. Zannah's eyes trailed her, offering no further comment, as Siri strode down the ramp. The moment her feet touched the dusty soil, a chill ran up her spine, releasing into a cold breath in the air. She let her eyes slowly take in the desolate landscape, of stone buildings and monuments. Yet... her eyes furrowed as she did so, a bit of displeasure rolling down her spine. The sensation of eyes eyes on her shifted, rather than judging, they were curious. It felt as if she were being probed with the Force, someone riffling through her thoughts, and yet not at the same time. It was a bit baffling, but, she dismissed it for now.

"I thought Korriban was supposed to be important to the Sith," murmured Siri, taking in the evident desolation and defilement around her, "Yet this place is in ruins."

She walked forward towards the nearest statue, looking up at the ruined monument. It was supposed to be of some Sith Lord, but the top half of it had clearly been blown away long ago if the aged scorch marks were any indication, rather than falling apart to the ages. Her eyes slid past, to an entry way to a tomb. Blasted open it looked like, if the rubble's positioning were to be trusted. This place had long since been ransacked, whether it was an assaulting force, or looters, she didn't know.

_Both..._

Her attention focused, eyes flickering, senses probing, but she couldn't make heads or tails where the answer had come from. What had been told to her was irritating either way. Good or evil, light or dark, the dead deserved their rest, and their due respect. She shook her head, she had a distinct lack of knowledge about this planet. The Jedi rarely talked about this place, any entries about it in the archive were locked, aside from knowing it was the homeworld of the Sith, few Jedi knew anything further. Even as a Sith Apprentice, she hadn't learned much more about the history of this place.

To that end, she inspected each tomb's entrance, each statue, in the vicinity. Hands and eyes tracing ancient stone, squinting at faded writings. Most of which she couldn't get anything out of. She hadn't a clue whose tomb belonged to whom. When she had finished, rather than bumbling into one or exploring at random, she moved to the center of the valley and sat down, pushing herself into meditation. The Dark Side swirled around her, pulling and yanking and demanding she go this way or that. She shoved aside it's desire and focused on herself, pulling her emotions to her, beating her fear into submission, destroying her apprehension, focusing instead on her anger at the state of this place, and her growing hunger and greed to learn what she could here.

She pushed into the Force a demand: ' _Where might I find knowledge of Korriban, of what happened here?_ '

The answer was mocking, Siri could practically feel a sneer directed at her, ' _All around you, little fallen Jedi._ '

And she countered, _'There were many a lord of the Sith who began as a Jedi who went onto greatness._ '

' _Yet many more who floundered and became naught more than fodder_. _Which one shall you be?_ '

The Dark Side pulled away from her, and her meditation ended. It was going to offer her no guidance here. She supposed it indirectly had, no matter where she looked, she would find answers. Yet... there was a different pull, from Zannah's lightsaber, from the kyber, a whisper of which way to go, a yearning for something. She considered it, probing it curiously. It didn't answer, just pushed her forward. Siri knew better than to blindly trust a Dark Side artifact though, she would make her way towards it's desired destination, but at her own pace.

She slowly made her way into one of the tombs, pausing in it's entryway. She probed through it as far as she could, sensing for anything out of the ordinary. There were... clusters of energy in the tomb, and she made her way through darkened halls, igniting her lightsaber to use as a torch, until she came across one. It was... an oddity. It was a faint shimmer over one of the few readable writings on a wall. It was a blurring, as if there were dust on the wall that needed to be wiped away. She resisted the urge to do so, and probed it carefully. It was a trap of some kind, both a lure, and a snare. The pull to touch it and try to brush away the shimmer was still there, but if she did so... well... she had the sense that something would happen that wasn't quite beneficial. She was curious though, how it worked, what it's purpose was.

She shielded herself, and touched the wall. The Dark Side surged at her from the trap, trying to wrap around her with intense concentrations of energy, attempting to immobilize her body and disrupt her connection to the Force. She tensed under the assault before growling under her breath. A Jedi would have difficulty with this, she doubted anyone but a Master could break free of this without a great struggle. But she wasn't light anymore, and she had already braced herself. She pulled on the Dark Side, yanking energy out of the trap, enough to weaken it, but not destroy it. She merely wanted to access the Force uninterrupted. She studied it's construction, identifying that it was a form of Sith Sorcery.

The energy was bound to a source, in this case, the dark writings on the wall, and held within it. The energy would reside in it's bound object, dormant even over thousands of years until awakened by nearby sentient lifeforms. It would release subtle whispers in the Force when someone drew near, trying to bait them to touch it. When it did, it released it's energy as an overwhelming force that would subdue it's unaware prey. Those caught in it could be bound for an indeterminate amount of time. Someone unskilled or Force Null would probably be bound until the energy wore off, while those with skill and power would be required to expend energy to fight off the trap.

She considered the application of it. If one was trapped in it, it could take hours, perhaps even a day if they had to wait the trap out, to become free. That was a great way to weaken someone to hunger, thirst, and exhaustion. If someone fell into more than one of these traps... it could kill them due to dehydration or hunger. Not to mention how defenseless the prisoner would be, Siri could just walk up and drive her lightsaber through someone bound in the trap. It wouldn't have much of an effect on Darksiders, but... it could have uses against Jedi or regular people, and it would still burn through some energy of a Jedi Master.

She smiled at the shimmering writings, the trap, and began to pick it apart piece by piece, until it was gone, the writings themselves revealed to be dusty scribbles that mocked anyone foolish enough to fall into the trap. Then she started to practice, thinking of its form, feeling, and function, and put some of her energy into the writings, replacing the trap with her own. She didn't think it was as good as the one that had been there before, but... she had plenty of time to practice. She retreated the way she had come, exiting the tomb, and looked around the entrance. It was mostly just rocks and rubble, but... there! A small piece of a broken vase or something. A smooth, if but dirty thing. She picked it up and began again, pouring her focus into creating another trap. When she was done, she carefully set it in the rubble, pouring a bit of dirt over it, leaving only a bit uncovered. Someone walking through might spot it, thinking it was something more, and try to dig it up, only to be ensnared. If that didn't ward them off pilfering into the tomb, well, there were probably more dangers within anyway.

Again and again she practiced, leaving small dark energy traps near the entrance of every tomb in the Valley of the Dark Lords. The eyes on her reacted in different ways to her practice, to her adding protections to the tombs: some dismissive of her efforts, some pleased by them, most merely watching, not betraying thoughts or sensations. She didn't react to what she picked up, she wasn't doing this to appease long dead lords, but because she wanted to. To learn how to use such a thing for her own use, and a bit of a ward for places that should be respected. It was probably a bit to late on the latter unfortunately. She held little doubt most artifacts and the tombs themselves were desecrated beyond measure.

When she was satisfied that she had mastered the trap, she returned to venturing into the tombs. Winding hallways that led to one dead end after another, or a room already pilfered beyond belief. Some sarcophagus that were thrown open and defiled, ancient bones riffled through. Perhaps it was pointless to do, but, she gently rearranged the bones she came across, trying to recreate their form, and closed the sarcophagus, trapping each with she encountered afterwards. These ones though, she poured more energy into, more malice. She began to practice infusing the traps with what Sorcery Zannah had taught her, embedding a mental attack that would distort senses and cause pain to those who dared trigger them. Let anyone foolish enough to try to pilfer this place again suffer the consequences.

There was much more dark approval in the air this time, and a curious nudge. ' _Do you so greatly desire to curry favor, little Fallen Jedi? Begging for scraps with these tokens to the ancient dead?_ '

She frowned. "It's not about currying favor. Darth Zannah taught me to respect the Lords of the past, and I do so willingly, without prompt."

There was a hiss in the Force. _'So that's whose Holocron it is, the little lost girl, once again._ '

She frowned at the insult to Zannah, but was curious about the 'again' part. Regardless, she pushed the feeling down and spoke again, "The condition of this place is appalling. Whoever lived here last didn't do anything to restore these tombs. Have any who dwelt here after these tombs were built bothered?"

There was no answer, just a swirl of dark emotions through the air. So, Siri resumed her search, crossing from one tomb to another, until night fell. Her stomach growled at her, but she ignored it. She doubted she'd find anything to eat in this forsaken place, she'd have to sustain herself with the Force and...

She had only a second of warning, through the Force, and a subtle growl through the air. She spun as something leaped at her through the darkness of the hallway. She dove to the side, slamming into a wall, but dodging whatever it was. She caught sight of a quadrupedal form, pale tough skin, a spiky spine, a long tail, a head with drooping ears and a maw full of sharp teeth. It's claws were viscous and sharp, it growled hungrily at her, and leaped again.

Siri narrowed her eyes, raised a hand, and blasted it back with lightning, sending it whining into a wall, hard. She strode forward as it slumped down, and drove her lightsaber through it, killing it within moments. "Well, guess I have something to eat then."

She didn't know what the hell it was, some kind of indigenous animal she assumed. She aimed a hand and began to cook it with Force Lightning, not trusting its meat otherwise...

And paused when more growling echoed down the hallway, more of the creatures prowling towards her, and judging by the sniffs she heard, her meal-to-be. She studied them, since they were slow and careful on their approach. They felt distinctly dark in the Force, and she was mildly surprised to realize they were slightly Force Sensitive. They eyed her warily, drawing closer and closer...

So Siri decided she'd try something Zannah had taught her, and aimed a hand, reaching for their minds with her power. She snarled and slammed into them with the Force, making them all whine and bumble around as she poured ' _ **OBEY**_ ' into their animal minds. Tails tucked between their legs, and they sat down, whimpering. Siri's lips curled into a pleased grin, and she resumed cooking her meal. She made slices with her lightsaber, before bringing a bit of meat to her lips. It was... a rather foul taste, but the Force didn't whisper of any particular danger. The meat was tainted with the Dark Side of course, but she was already dark. So she ate quietly, until she was satisfied. She stared at the pack of beasts watching her, before she levitated the cooked corpse into the air and tossed it to them.

She raised an eyebrow at the barbaric feast as the animals tore into the corpse, biting and ripping and tearing until it was just bones. When they were finished, she bid them over to her, projecting an image of them curling around her. She kept her focus on them as they did so, watching for any signs of aggression. But her earlier domination, and the food she had given them, seemed to have pacified them for the moment. So, using them for warmth, she settled down for the night in the dusty tomb...

* * *

The next day found Siri still walking through tombs, with a pack of viscous animals as her companions this time. She studied them more than she paid attention to the tomb itself. They weren't natural, that was her first observation. They were infused with the Dark Side, regardless of age, it was seeped into their very being. Whats more, she could feel a pull from the tombs towards the creatures, a sensation of _-protect-kill intruders-_ , not quite in those words. But the beasts considered these tombs their territory, and would kill anyone who ventured into them without a means to placate or kill the animals. Siri had the notion that these beasts were created to protect the tombs themselves.

Not that they had done that good of a job over the last thousands of years.

They had probably killed their fare share however. If one could shape life with the Dark Side, Siri wondered just what else could be created. She severely doubted these animals were the only thing the Sith had created. There was a sensation of mocking laughter through the Force, and a ' _no, not the only beasts made_ ', slipping through her mind. She pondered how such a thing could be done, and made a mental note to ask Zannah about it later.

The laughter in the air turned sinister. ' _Would you like to meet something darker, more dangerous?_ '

An ominous feeling filled Siri at the whisper.

' _We wonder if you would fare as well with a Terentatek as you did with the Tuk'ata.'_

Siri felt a pull, a direction in the Force, off into the far distance. At the thought of following it however, she felt a lethal spike of danger. She had enough sense to project ' _Not yet_ ', into the Force as a response, getting more mocking laughter from the ghosts that watched her. She didn't know what a Terentatek was, but considering the danger rippling through the Force, it was probably wise to not pursue the matter at the moment. Whatever it was, it'd probably kill her if she met it at this point in her apprenticeship.

Instead, she decided to follow her kyber's insistent push. She sent the creatures, the Tuk'ata as the ghosts called them, up ahead a bit, selfishly using them incase there were any traps to be triggered. The halls had however been long since traveled, traps long since triggered. It was mostly just dust and echoes and laughter of the long dead that greeted her as she delved deeper into the valley's tombs. Aside from the dark energy traps, and the potential these beasts held, she hadn't found much yet. She wasn't sure she was honestly going to...

No...

There was something still here, she could feel it in the Force. She just didn't know what it was. Or if it had been here originally. The Dark Side loomed deeper and darker towards where she tread. The whispers of the ghosts grew ineligible, just gibberish, smacking at her senses and pulling at her mind. It was... unnerving, and unsettling. No matter how she adjusted or reinforced her shields, she couldn't properly block them out. It was distinctly distracting, and she had the notion that being here for to long listening to it would drive her insane.

She frowned and came to a stop, just standing there in the tide of dark voices. She closed her eyes and tilted her head, to listen, to try and understand. But it was like a howling buzz in the back of her mind. A sense of dislike, or unworthiness directed at her. She ground her teeth and growled under her breath. She dove into her memories, pulling at many different instances of Sidious's torture of her, how much she hated him, and turned it into a burning and biting maelstrom around her mind. Some of the whispers abated, others just grow more intense, dismissive and angry, as if affronted that this was the most of the Dark Side she could draw out.

She hissed in pain, feeling the pressure mount, and buckled to her knees, her lightsaber 'flashlight' clattering to the ground and extinguishing. There was a growl around her in the sudden darkness, from the Tuk'ata she had previously commanded. She could feel her control brushed aside by the ancient dead, and the animals starting to appraise her, sensing for weakness. She clenched her fists tightly, she was not going to die here from voices and animals!

So she went deeper, towards Master Galia's death. More voices fell away, but it still wasn't enough, those that remained pressed deeper, and she cried out in pain, pressure on her mind becoming oppressive and agonizing. So she went all the way, to her deepest, darkest memory, of Maul, threatening to kill Obi-Wan, to make him suffer as Siri had suffered, watching his master die before killing him. Siri gave a snarl of anger and hate, pushing it into the air and bursting it all around her like an unseen ripple. The Tuk'ata around her whimpered away, and the pressure on her mind abated.

The torrent of whispers were gone, instead there was an air of curiosity and bafflement.

' _You hold much anger and hate you one, yet... you are not as you should be._ '

' _She does not have the air of a Sith about her, where is that molten glow in her eyes?_ '

_'Why did the little girl's holocron wake us for this pathetic mess? It's still conflicted!'_

Siri's eyes sharpened. Zannah had awoken the ghosts? She had brought people here before?

_'Still so young and foolish, she still clings to the past, she fell for another, not for power.'_

_'She still has so much to learn before she is worthy of the tittle of Dark Lord._ '

"Is anyone born worthy?" she countered harshly, still riding her anger and hate like a high, "I doubt any of you were given a free pass. You had to earn your places just as I will one day."

' _Proving yourself or not, little fallen Jedi, you will never reach your potential so long as you still cling to the light._ '

"And what makes you think I do?" she countered.

' _Because you still hold a Jedi dear to your heart._ '

The disgust in the air was palpable. Siri however was furious, she lashed out in all directions. It affected nothing however, merely drawing in more mocking laughter...

And then something darker spoke, and all other voices fell silent. ' _Enough._ '

Siri glanced down at her belt as the kyber in Zannah's lightsaber thrummed with anticipation.

' _Come deeper young one, and let me gaze upon a heir to my line._ '

So Siri did. She abandoned the pack of Tuk'ata and strode on alone after picking up her lightsaber. She followed the push of her kyber, and eventually, she detected something... familiar in the air. It felt like... Zannah's Holocron, but different. The room she walked into was large and antechamber-like, a hole in the ceiling allowing light down through. At the far end of the room was a sarcophagus. She clipped her lightsaer to her belt... and pulled out Zannah's, touching the kyber with the Force. It resonated with something hidden. A pulse of dark energy. There was a holocron hidden somewhere in this room, perhaps underground, or in the walls, she wasn't sure. She could feel it's presence, though, she figured that was because it was allowing her to. She slowly approached the Sarcophagus, noting that this room was... newer than most of the ruins. Whoever was entombed here wasn't as ancient as the rest, but the Dark Side here was more fresh, still carrying power.

A blue gatekeeper shimmered into view infront of the sarcophagus, causing Siri to stop as it revealed a massive figure coated head to toe in some kind of living-like armor. Even in the blue of the image, the eyes were still molten, burning, and all-consumingly dark. The figure, male, was ripped, muscular to an inane degree. He had a cape on his back, tied around him. Robes covering his bottom half, pauldrons on his shoulders, dark gloves covering large hands. A lightsaber hung from the sash on his waste, larger and thicker than most to fit into his grip.

The unknown Sith made a beckoning motion, and Zannah's lightsaber pulled at Siri's hands. She let it go, and it floated towards the Gatekeeper, resonating with it. Like... like it had been a former owner. This obviously wasn't Zannah, so that only left...

She knelt down, bowing her head in respect. "Darth Bane."

She crushed down on any apprehension, fear, or anything of the like immediately. The Gatekeeper didn't acknowledge her, merely caressing a hand over Zannah's lightsaber, speaking to it with a deep and powerful voice. "Zannah was always rather calculative in what she did, though this is hardly subtle of her. Even while dead, she still prods at me. She always did hold a grudge."

Siri hesitated briefly before asking, "A grudge, my lord?"

She felt eyes on her. "She never did forgive my seeking of immortality at the thought of her unworthiness. She came here often enough while alive to boast her prowess or the rising potential of her apprentice to so smugly rub in that she was worthy. And this is hardly the first time she's directed a potential to come here and have me do her work for her out of spite."

"Her work?"

"Look at me."

She obeyed, swallowing reflexively as those dark holographic eyes bored into her. "If I find you unworthy, I will kill you, and you would not be the first she's sent here to their death."

She froze.

"Open your mind, now."

The order was firm, and disobedience would not be tolerated. Before the creator of the Rule of Two, a mere Holocron or not, she dared not disobey. She bowed her head again, and lowered her shields. She felt the Holocron begin to sift through her mind, her thoughts, her memories. As it did so, she cautiously studied it. This Holocron wasn't like Zannah's, it was just a Holocron, not a soul fragment. Yet it still held immense power, amplified if she felt correctly by the Dark Side inhabiting the tombs of the Sith Lords. She wondered just how powerful the actual Darth Bane had been, and how powerful Zannah must have been to kill him, how the early Lords of the Rule of Two compared to Darth Sidious.

If Bane felt the thought, he didn't acknowledge it. He continued to look through and pry into her mind. He made constant comparisons, to her training as a Jedi Initiate and Padawan to her training as a Sith Apprentice, looking at her progress through both paths. He especially paid very close attention to her fall, scrutinizing it intensely. He studied how she interacted with others both before and after her fall, what she was learning from Sidious and Zannah, and her willingness to delve deeper into the Dark Side. He watched her failed sacrifice critically, but she did not get a sense of what the Holocron felt about it.

Finally, he pulled out...

...and then gripped her throat with the Force, lifting her up into the air and applying a warning level of pressure. "You have potential, young Tachi, but are conflicted in your _purpose_. You are potentially dangerous to the Rule of Two should this conflict turn in favor of the Jedi. This foolish attachment towards the boy, this 'Obi-Wan', could become your undoing, and make no mistake, you and he will meet one day to determine your fate. I feel..."

The Gatekeeper tasted the air, the Force, in the sound of air being sucked in between teeth. "...that your choice may determine the course the Galaxy will take, one way or another."

His eyes bored into her. "He is your weakness, and you must snuff him out to achieve your full potential."

She tensed, protective and possessive fury raged through her at the elder Sith at the threat leveled at Obi-Wan. Bane narrowed his eyes in response and tightened his Force Grip on her throat, barely letting any air through. "Affection and love, possessive or not, have no place in a Sith. Our duty is to the Rule of Two, and the destruction of the Jedi, including your 'Obi-Wan'. It offers you no value nor power..."

A defiant thought rippled through her: Then why was it she could only appear to tap into the deepest she could go when he was threatened?

Bane scoffed before answering, "Because that emotion was your pathway to the Dark Side, now, it serves as your chain. It brought you into the dark, but still binds you to the light, a two-way conduit. You will not reach your potential in the Dark Side so long as that chain remains unbroken."

He released her, and she fell to the ground, taking ragged breaths before she stood up and glared at him. He didn't particularly seem to care, merely watching her. He flung Zannah's lightsaber at her with the Force, and she reached out to snag it before clipping it to her belt. He wrinkled his nose with irritation. "You have potential to become a Dark Lord of the Sith, to be worthy of the name Sidious gave you, to cast away Siri Tachi and become Darth Tyrosus. I foresee that you could become a powerful Sith Sorceress, rivaling Zannah one day, and a lightsaber duelist of such skill that few could penetrate your defenses or survive your attacks. You will not match Sidious's direct power however, just as Zannah did not match mine. Your cunning and Sorcery must be used to overpower and overcome that failing."

She felt pressure on her neck before she could even begin to feel elated. "Alternatively, you could be swayed back to the light. From what I see however, know this: The Jedi and the Republic would never trust you again. You would always feel their judging and hypocritical eyes upon you, finding you wanting, waiting for even the slightest slip up from you. You would always bear the weight of your so called 'sins', and that will always hold you down from what might have been your potential as a Jedi, which is far below your potential as a Sith. The Jedi share the finite power of the Force, while the Sith claim it for themselves."

What she could see of his face through his mask looked disgusted. "Or you could walk neither path, and end up forever in limbo, caught between the Sith and the Jedi till the end of your days, never reaching your potential with either side of the Force, your conflicted loyalties bringing you down and inhibiting your power."

The pressure on her neck vanished, and Darth Bane returned to a neutral look. "By rights, I should kill you and force Sidious to find a new apprentice. Yet... I have misgivings about him. His Master's plans to do away with the Rule of Two, and Sidious's own thoughts on the matter, disturb me. In addition, Zannah is right, in a sense, about his methods of withholding knowledge and power from the apprentice; she is also wrong, in that some power should be struggled for to encourage growth and remove complacency. The fact that he has taken an apprentice so early considering his own status is especially irritating."

Siri's eyebrows furrowed, trying to make sense of it. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You will understand one day," said Darth Bane before taking on a deadly warning tone, "But do not think nor press about it now, it will only lead to your death at this point. You must carefully walk your path and bide your time. You must make your final sacrifice, become the Sith you are meant to become, and replace Sidious. Now, away with you, and tell my disrespectful apprentice of your 'weakness', perhaps she can make herself useful in getting rid of it."

Siri scowled a bit, brushing by the reference to Obi-Wan and shifting towards Zannah. "Well, she respected you enough to entomb you here, didn't she?"

"Hardly, this 'shrine' was made to mock me," snarled Darth Bane, motioning to the sarcophagus, "Open it."

Siri hesitatingly did, not wanting to disturb it, but still curious... and found it completely empty. "Huh?"

"My body was destroyed in my final fight against my apprentice," explained Darth Bane, "This place, and sealing my holocron here rather than keeping it where it may be of use, was her final stab at me."

"So she's vindictive," mused Siri, "And doesn't take any kind of betrayal well."

"No, she does not," agreed Darth Bane before glancing down at Zannah's lightsaber on her belt, thoughtful, "My so called heart seems to think you will make use of it, that, more than anything, stays my hand for the time being. Prove yourself and return later, then perhaps I may share some of my wisdom with you."

Without further word, the Gatekeeper turned away and vanished. Siri took a few minute to stand there, contemplative of the words, before deciding she would dwell on them later, when there weren't who knows how many ghosts and hidden holocrons to peer into her thoughts. She glanced up at the dwindling light and decided she would sleep here for the night before making her way back to the ship...

* * *

Siri's walk back through the abandoned tombs was... quieter than it had been coming in. The voices were mostly settled, sleeping or dismissive of her for the moment. Some still watched, but did not comment. Siri really didn't think there was much to learn from the long since desecrated tombs, hidden holocrons on the other hand... she felt that Bane's might not be the only one here, though she didn't have a clue where else to look. It was a thought for later she supposed. She felt the stirrings of hunger, and her throat was long since parched, but she smothered it over with the Force, she'd be back on her ship soon enough to eat and drink. She didn't feel like wasting her time looking for Tuk'ata's to hunt and eat. She wasn't sure she could force any meat down her dry throat at this point anyway.

Still, she counted this trip a success. She had, first and foremost, survived the incursions with the ghosts of the Sith and Bane's Gatekeeper, which had probably been Zannah's intention by bringing her here to begin with rather than to learn anything. So she considered it a bonus that she had learned how to make a kind of dark side trap. That had oodles of potential uses. She wondered if Sidious would be amused if she trapped her room and built them towards him...

Siri paused when she felt a snicker in the air, a dark cackle of laughter, her eyebrows furrowing. There was a sudden tension in the Force, rising steadily. She narrowed her eyes and cautiously pressed out with her senses...

And felt something immensely dark, and alive, lock onto her Force Presence. A howl of hunger and rage ripped through the tomb she was currently in, and she felt the floor tremble with heavy, but distant footfalls. Something big was coming for her, and she felt death in the Force, hers, if she couldn't get away. She took off in a run without further hesitation

' _Why run, unworthy little fallen Jedi?_ ' came a mocking whisper from one of the remaining, hateful ghosts, ' _After I brought our pet Terentatek over to play?_ '

Siri ground her teeth. "When I'm stronger and I next come back here, I'm going to find out whose ghost just spoke, and I'm going to rip you apart."

Mocking laughter rang through the Force, followed by a crash of a wall crumbling and another animalistic howl. Siri closed her eyes briefly as she ran, stretching out, feeling for Zannah's holocron in the far distance, and locked onto it. She used that as her beacon as she twisted and turned through the tomb, sprinting as fast as she could. The thumping of heavy footfalls drew closer and closer, until it echoed in the same elongated hallway she was currently in. She risked a look back... and immediately wished she hadn't.

Pursuing her was nothing short of a bipedal _monster_. Orange scaly skin. Massive reaching claws with talons bigger than Siri's head. Jagged spikes poked out of it's skin in every which way all across it's body. Massive tusks were sprouted out of the side of it's face, and its mouth was a gaping map of sharp teeth. Yellow eyes, almost as molten as a Sith's were, shined out with twisted hunger. Green ichor dripped off it's claws, its tusks, and out of it's mouth suggesting venom, as it ran after her on powerful legs. Large spikes coming of if its back swayed back and forth as it ran, lethally sharp. It felt her rising fear, and it howled at her, its roar shaking the tomb and causing dust and dirt to fall from the ceiling.

Siri faced forward and pumped the Force into her legs, picking up speed as her heart thudded wildly in her chest. There was no fighting this thing, not now. She wasn't even close to as strong as she would need to be. Considering the darkness and heavy hunger she felt radiating from it, she didn't think she could force it into submission with the Force. All she could do was flee, she didn't even bother trying with Sorcery or Force Lightning, she didn't think it would affect the beast. Her only hope was to put distance between her and it, and get her ship into the air. If Zannah threw a fit over it not being a full three days, well, Siri would space the treacherous bitch.

Siri hadn't been much of a sprint or long distance runner, no more than any other Jedi Padawan. Her Sith training had added to her endurance. Even with her more-than-average training, and the Force, by the time the second hour of none-stop running flew by, tiredness was bleeding heavily into her, and not the beast chasing her relentlessly. The Jedi had always taught that speeding themselves with the Force was to be done in bursts, extending it like this... was not normally done, whether it was simply something they didn't have experience in, or had some kind of consequence later on, she didn't know. She didn't particularly care and...

_DANGER, DEATH!_

Siri threw herself forward, feeling a rush in the air from a barely missed swipe. She hit the ground and rolled as the beast howled, stepping forward and over her in it's momentum, slamming into the wall at a turn. Siri reached up with the Force as she rose, and began to collapse the ceiling over the beast as she took off again. It wouldn't hold it for long, but Siri couldn't outrun it now, she need distraction and diversion. As the Terentatek battered its way free, Siri eyed statues and carvings in the wall, stretching out with the Force despite her exhaustion, and wrapped them in illusions, placing her face and her presence over them while trying to smother her own presence in the Force.

She turned another corner and ran at normal speeds, unable to keep up with her exhaustion in the Force as her lungs burned with exertion and the dry air. She heard the beast howl in rage, the smashing of stone as it moved to one illusion after another, sometimes a crunch from biting and chewing then spitting of stone. It's presence probed the air as it finished the last illusion, searching, hungering, yearning...

Siri managed to go another few hallways before it locked onto her again and howled, the echoes of its heavy footfalls sounding again. She was close now, almost back to the entrance to the Valley. Her legs were a mixture of numb and burning, only going on through sheer adrenaline and will. Her lungs felt dry and cracked and tight and burning, wanting to come out with each ragged breath. Her vision was a bit blurry at this point, and she had one heck of a headache forming, but she pushed through. As she burst into the Valley of the Dark Lords, she reached up and caved in the entrance of the tomb she had come out of with one last burst of the Force. Kriff the old bastard ghosts, they deserved their tombs getting messed up.

She bolted to her ship, and up the ramp, closing it with a desperate button smack and not stopping as Zannah's holocron lit up and her scowling form appeared. "What are you doing? It hasn't been..."

"Piss off your treacherous bitch!" snarled Siri in a pained gasp, "I've got a kriffing Terentatek after me!"

"Oh," said Zannah, "By all means then, please do take off. It might eat my Holocron if it gets a whiff of it."

Siri didn't waste her breath grumbling, rushing for the cockpit and turning the ship on and taking off in a panic. As her ship turned, stone blew out of the tomb entrance she had caved in, and the beast burst outward. Siri pushed the ship up as it howled and leaped for it-missing the hull by inches of its sharp claws that could have torn right through it. Siri took the ship into the space, punched in Coruscant's coordinates, and entered hyperspace. She sat there for a short time, panting to the point of near collapse, before she shook her head. Water first, then food, then she could collapse.

She moved into the cargo hold, ignoring Zannah, and grabbing a canteen of water from a crate, guzzling it down, and then another, before ravenously tearing into any food she could find.

"So, have fun in the tombs?"

"Kriff off Zannah," spat Siri.

"Awww, was the old man rude?" teased Zannah.

Siri turned and glared at her. "Do you want me to space your Holocron?"

Zannah pouted. "So inconsiderate, I just wanted my old master's second opinion."

"Bullshit," said Siri, pointing a finger at the glowing gatekeeper, "Just how many potential apprentices have you sent to die in there?"

"A few," admitted Zannah cheerfully, "Mostly I just send in Fallen Jedi who stumbled across my holocron to their deaths in the tombs. I was found by a worthy member of the line of Bane a few generations ago though and they ruined all my fun keeping me locked up."

Siri glared.

"Did Bane send the Terentatek after you?" asked Zannah, slightly puzzled, "He never did that before."

"No, that was one of the insane kriffing ghosts that haunt the place," said Siri.

Zannah grinned. "Aww, that's cute."

Siri huffed and muttered under her breath, "Treachery is the way of the Sith indeed."

Zannah snickered before glowering, "So, what did the old bastard have to say?"

Siri considered how best to lie to her...

_**-YOU WILL TELL HER-** _

Siri gasped as the Dark Side bled into her mind, a lingering feeling, a dominating force, echoing the presence of Bane's Holocron, flooded her mind; her eyes briefly went blank. "I have a weakness that Darth Bane said you might make yourself useful in getting rid of."

Zannah raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Oh this should be fun. He even left a compulsion so you couldn't hide it. He was always so considerate. So whats the dirty secret?"

Siri struggled to fight it, but couldn't. "I have feelings for a Jedi Padawan by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Zannah made a face. "Bleh. Love, isn't that sickeningly adorable?"

The Gatekeeper's face turned harsh. "Well, I suppose we'll have to find a way to nip that in the bud, won't we? I have to deliver you back to Sidious, but don't worry, I won't tell him. I'll think of something to cut the cord the next time I have you alone to myself..."

Zannah's Gatekeeper winked out of existence, and Siri felt the compulsion relax. Immediately rage and hate overtook her, and she poured into her mind, following the receding darkness to it's source and gripped it tyrannically. She fought the urge to rip it apart, and instead isolated it, fuming and pacing darkly through the cargo hold. Once she had sufficiently calmed herself, she sat down and fell into meditation to study the compulsion. It was unraveling slowly, its purpose fulfilled. Siri studied it as it went, poking and prodding to try and understand how a compulsion worked, identifying how it could possibly be hidden from those infected with it, and more importantly, for clue to how they could be made. By the time it was a mere echo, she felt she had some understanding of the sinister web it was weaved with, but she knew she'd need either Sidious or Zannah to finish her understanding of it.

Just to be sure though... she began to carefully search through her own mind, looking for similar hidden traces of the Force that were not her own, things hidden so delicately weaved with her own presence and mind...

...and was rather not surprised to see a few minor ones woven into her psyche. A dark smile played across her face. Well... now she had more to study, perhaps she didn't need to involve either Sidious or Zannah... especially considering that it felt like both had implanted their own in there. She slowly and gently prodded one, feeling it suddenly tense and gather energy before she ruthlessly gripped it, slamming down with enough Force to paralyze the compulsion. Her vision briefly swam for a moment, her mind flaring in pain, before she refocused and began to pick it apart, studying each piece of it.

This one was to encourage darker emotions, a subtle nudge to incur a more violent or hostile response. She studied how it was tied to her, what triggered it, and then tried to figure out what it had been about to do...

Oh.

It was like a warning signal, to warn its creator it had been found. Clever. Best to nip that in the bud. She began to pick it apart and destroy it, but not without understanding each part of it. Then a thought occurred to her. She couldn't stop Sidious from going through her mind yet, she wasn't strong enough. If he looked through and found his compulsions missing... how would he react? Pleased? Angry? Hmm... perhaps... could she use Force Illusions inside her own head? Now there was a thought. She focused on the lingering remnant of the compulsion she had just picked apart, and used it as a foundation for an illusion, wrapping a fake-compulsion over where it had just been. She inspected it, nit picking over a few things, before it felt similar enough...

But why stop there?

Zannah had showed her how to assault someones mind, and she had learned how to make a kind of trap on Korriban... why wouldn't it be possible to leave a mental trap in her own head? She grinned deviously, and underneath the illusion of a compulsion, she laced her trap, that if someone discovered the deception, it would spring and stab out at the intruder, injecting them with a sharp piercing stab of the Dark Side to disorient and disrupt their senses, not to mention inflict pain. If timed right... perhaps she could kill Sidious, or someone else peaking where they shouldn't belong, in the resulting confusion.

She cackled a bit before refocusing, going through each compulsion she found. They were, as she initially thought, minor things. Not controlling, but subtle, trying to influence and become natural to her mindset and personality. Things to encourage dark reactions, or suppress positives as the other end, though she noted those ones were worn down, not quite keeping up to her will. They could have been made stronger, but then something might have given away and let her in on their existence. She didn't feel particularly different as she continued to dismantle the compulsions, but, they were for active decisions she supposed.

She growled a bit under her breath, irritated that Sidious and Zannah thought to bind her this way. Was she just a pet project, a slave to them? Or perhaps... did they feel she needed some extra 'help' in overcoming her Jedi past? She considered that as she came to her last compulsion she could find, if she understood correctly... it was to suppress guilt. It was in relative tatters, she suspected Garen's death and the overwhelming grief and guilt had damaged it heavily. She hesitated briefly, but instead of destroying it, she repaired it, and with a bit of shame, exited her mind and her meditation afterwards. The Dark Side already weakened her sensation of guilt normally... but... she wanted to feel as little of that as she could. Still, she was satisfied she had learned a bit about compulsions, all she needed now was some practice using them.

She made to rise to her feet, before the room around her spun. She pitched to the side and landed heavily, groaning. Oh boy... yeah... she needed some sleep after today. Spending a few hours in her head ripping compulsions apart after all that exhausting running certainly hadn't helped. She forced herself shakily to her feet and made for the crew quarters of the ship. She'd sleep, perhaps reinspect her illusionary compulsions when she was awake and not so tired to check for potential mistakes, and then ready herself for her return to Sidious...


	18. Home Again

"Well Master, I can't say I'm sorry that mission took so long."

Obi-Wan Kenobi shot his master a cheeky grin, dodging away as his Master reached to yank on his padawan braid. "Brat. You should be relieved to be home."

"Ah yes, home, where dirty looks are aplenty and people whisper behind our backs," drawled Obi-Wan as he and Qui-Gon moved down the landing ramp to enter the Jedi Temple, "I'm already missing the bounty hunters chasing us across Mandalore."

Qui-Gon snorted. "Or being alone with a certain young duchess...?"

Obi-Wan's lips thinned for a moment before shaking his head. "She had a mouth on her that she knew how to run, but that was about it."

Blonde hair, blue eyes, a fierce and determined personality, so much like Siri, just... civilian, and Mandalorian, instead of a Jedi. The entire year on the run had been one constant and painful reminder after the other. He had shied away from her after the first month of being close, after she had asked him who she reminded him of, who brought that distant look into his eyes. She was a good young woman, fierce, yet desired peace, he bode her no ill will. He just couldn't bring himself to love and lose again. It would have been exactly like Siri, grow close for a short time, than either be ripped away by her dying, or him returning to the Jedi after the mission was finished. Qui-Gon had taught him well, on how to guard his heart, and hold onto a fading memory with a fierce and unjedi-like grip.

"So... not it on writing the report," said Obi-Wan.

"I believe a Master's prerogative trumps that my young Padawan," countered Qui-Gon.

"You can't use that twice in a row!" exclaimed Obi-Wan with mock outrage as they trudged through the Temple hanger bay, "We agreed on that rule!"

"I only recall you agreeing to that," said Qui-Gon in a perfect calm tone, not quite masking the sly look in his eyes.

"Oh great, they're back."

Neither of them responded to or acknowledged the mutter as they passed into the hallways of the Jedi Temple, far to used to their reputation now to care. Forever stained from that one fateful mission, regardless of their near perfect success rate now that they had taken up missions again. Though, perhaps their methods of success left some things to be desired, at least from the rest of the Jedi anyway. Obi-Wan had been sheepish about his Master's maverick tendencies before, trying ( _unsuccessfully_ ) to balance that out. Now, he frankly didn't care so much. He rather enjoyed doing his own thing and ruffling feathers, kind of saw why Qui-Gon generally went out of his way to be a nuisance to the Council. So rigged and stuffy and condemning, they needed to be challenged every now and then.

Or they'd just see fit to slap _ridiculous_ six-month-long censures on innocent Master-Padawan pairs and do nothing to discourage the baseless rumors and blame going around. To be fair, they didn't encourage them either, the temple rumor mill was just 'beneath' them to deal with.

"How about a compromise?" suggested Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan reflexively groaned.

"Now that's uncalled for Padawan mine," chided Qui-Gon, "I'm honest this time."

"Alright, alright," said Obi-Wan with a sigh, "Let's here this great 'compromise'."

"It's rather simple, I handle the Council, you handle the physical report to submit," offered Qui-Gon.

Actually... that wasn't to bad. He wasn't going to outright admit it to his Master, stuffy old man would be grinning at him... kind of like he was now. Ah dammit, training bond spoiled his thoughts on the matter. Qui-Gon gave him a poorly masked smile and motioned away. "Off with you, go get something to eat, find those friends of yours."

Ah yes, all four of them. Bant, Garen, Reeft, and thankfully Vos ( _and once Siri_ ). Quinlan had just needed time to cool off after losing a shared friend before he came back, as ridiculous as ever. Speaking of which...

As Obi-Wan entered the line for the temple cafeteria, he couldn't help but spot Vos not-so-subtly flirting with... Padawan Shyler if Obi-Wan recalled, a brown haired and eyes female human with light skin. Obi-Wan grinned and scooted up behind him before 'bumping' the young man to topple right into the target of his affection, the pair of them bumbling against one another to try and not to fall down.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but snicker. "Oy! Watch it you clumsy Kiffar!"

Vos balanced himself against Shyler and then separated, whirling on Obi-Wan, face flushed a bit before spotting who had pushed him and grinning at his fellow Padawan. "Look whose talking Oaffy-Wan."

"Rude and uncivilized," chided Obi-Wan in mock scolding.

"You two are terrible," said Padawan Shyler, turning to face forward in the line, "Let me know when you're done flirting with your boyfriend Vos."

Quinlan sputtered. "H-hey!"

Obi-Wan slung an arm over the Kiffar's shoulder. "I didn't know you were available Quinlan."

Quinlan rolled his eyes. "I liked it better when you were hung up and stingy Obi-Wan, you're stepping into my territory here."

"I was never either of those."

Most definitely not.

"Rrriiightttt."

Okay, maybe a bit.

The two young men shared a grin and burst out laughing, drawing disgruntled looks from the more calm Padawans and knights around them. Most masters didn't even spare them a look. He followed Quinlan through the line, and to their usual table, delighted that both Bant and Reeft were there. No Garen, but it was rare that all four of them would be in the temple cafeteria at once between their various missions, duties, and classes.

"Finally back Obi-Wan," said Bant, relief in her voice, "I was keeping up with as much news from Mandalore as I could. It sounded dreadful over there."

Obi-Wan gave a tight smile. "Well, I am now much more aware of Mandalorian culture, and how bounty hunters operate, than I was before. To say the least, and-Reeft! Stop stealing my food!"

He jabbed a fork down and pinned his meat directly to his plate, stopping the sneak attempt to take it. The Dressellian pouted a bit. "But I'm so hungry! Can't you spare..."

"No," said Obi-Wan flatly, a growl escaping his lips, "Bic b ner."

Reeft blinked. "What does that mean?"

"It's Mando'a for 'It's mine.'"

"Ooooh, picked up some Mandalorian eh?" teased Vos, "Got any cuss words?"

"The food we ate on the run was osi'kyr," said Obi-Wan flatly, "Sorry Reeft, but I'm eating all my meals for awhile, went hungry enough times over the last year keeping the Duchess's energy up."

Reeft pouted, and Vos perked up, "Is osi'kyr Mando'a for shit?"

Obi-Wan gave a sheepish smile. "Maybe, you didn't hear it from me though."

"Oh man, I can't wait to tell people how full of osi'kyr they are," said Vos was a small cackle.

The table turned into a mess of snickers and laughs; Obi-Wan, 'finally', let himself fully relax for nearly the first time in roughly a year on the run. It was good to be home among his friends again. Speaking of friends, "So, where's Garen? Somewhere in the temple? Or did I miss him going off on a mission?"

And then the pleasant atmosphere was gone in the span of a second, an awkward uncomfortable sensation roiling from his friends. No one immediately answered before Bant gave a quiet sigh, "That's right, you wouldn't have heard, what being in your mission for so long."

"Heard what?"

"Garen is dead Obi-Wan," said Bant tiredly.

It was like a heavy, metal sucker punch to the gut. "Dead? **_What_**?!"

"He and Knight Rhara were ambushed by pirates on their way back from their mission," said Bant, a soft air of grief in her voice, "Their ships were blown apart."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes tightly, his whole body tensed and pained. Another friend gone... another friend lost... "Oh... when...?"

"Almost a month ago," said Vos, serious and solemn for once.

Obi-Wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I missed the pyre then, didn't I?"

"Yeah, it was held about a week after the Order finished it's investigation and recovered fragments of their ships," said Vos, "Wasn't really... anything... left to burn, but having the ceremony was better than nothing. Right?"

"Yeah," said Obi-Wan quietly, "I suppose it is."

He let his eyes slide over Vos, Reeft, and Bant, wondering how long it would be until he lost them too. They fell into silence, eating quietly, until they went their separate ways. Obi-Wan retreated to his quarters and began to type up the report of the year-long mission, something to dull his mind on while trying to process the loss of his friend. He let his melancholy spread through the room, infusing it as a warning. Both he and Qui-Gon tended to do this as a note for eachother to know they were in 'that mood'. Generally, the other would fetch tea and either work through it, or simply bask in shared misery. Though judging by the irritation Obi-Wan felt down his training bond, Qui-Gon was going to be busy with the Council for awhile yet...

He couldn't help but linger, as he had done with Siri. "Picked off by pirates... you probably hated going out like that Garen. Told me if you had to go, you wanted to do it saving lives."

He frowned briefly, feeling a small... waver... in the Force, a brief sensation of falseness. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why and for what. But he dismissed it and resumed his typing. It was going to take ages to get this done...

So when Qui-Gon walked in, a perpetual scowl on his face from his meeting with the Council, several hours later, Obi-Wan was hardly even a quarter-way-done. Qui-Gon paused at the entryway, a slight hint of concern on his face, before releasing his irritation into the Force and moving to the kitchen. The man walked to their table, set down a teapot with cups, and filled them, pushing over one to Obi-Wan and keeping one for himself.

"Garen Muln and Knight Rhara are dead," said Obi-Wan to the unasked question.

There was a tightening around Qui-Gon's grip, a disgruntled sigh escaping his lips. "I see."

Qui-Gon's eyes grew distant for a moment. "Rhara, Tahl, and I... grew up together. She was a good knight, charismatic, and held a love for the stars despite training as a Guardian."

That's right, his Master had known her. Joy, they got to share their misery again.

The notion must have passed along the bond, because Qui-Gon gave a self-depreciating chuckle. They drank tea in silence while Obi-Wan resumed typing, his fingers grew sluggish, lacking energy to even really bother. He only kept up the attempt because if it took to long, he'd get hounded at for it.

"We put dye into the Pools of a Thousand Fountains once," mused Qui-Gon in soft recollection, "Rhara took the blame for it, but she bore the punishment with a smile on her face, allowing her cohorts to go undetected and continue their 'dastardly sabotage'."

Obi-Wan smiled a little. "How long did that last?"

"About until I put hair dye into Master Dooku's shampoo."

Obi-Wan snickered a little. "What color?"

"Purple."

He tried to imagine it, but couldn't. "I can't even..."

"I might still have a holo-picture somewhere, give me a minute," said Qui-Gon, standing up and retreating into his room.

He returned with - Obi-Wan's breath hitched a little - a datapad Qui-Gon kept his old holo-pictures in, many of Tahl. It wasn't something most Jedi had, but Qui-Gon kept the possession as a fond collection of memories. The man flicked through it before handing it to Obi-Wan...

And he burst out laughing at the much younger, undignified, purple haired Master Dooku clothed in nothing but a towel glaring out at him, streaks of purple running down his hair and chest. "You should remind him of this the next time he visits."

"I might," mused Qui-Gon, "Then again, I might not. He'd make this disappear if he found out I had that image in it."

Obi-Wan shook his head slowly at that, leaning back. "Hmm, Garen and I had a habit of revenge-pranking Bruck when we were younger."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, with slight hesitation. Obi-Wan didn't talk about Bruck Chun much after all, and generally not of his own will, he knew that. "Mostly it was little things, trips, tossed food, bumps, hiding his datapads, that kind of thing. But, considering how much of an ass Bruck was to me, it... well... I appreciated Garen going out of his way to look after me."

"Did Bant join in?"

Obi-Wan gave him a charming smile. "What do you take Padawan Eerin for? An uncivilized savage?"

"So she was worse than you two?"

"Oh you have no idea," agreed Obi-Wan, "She's viscous over those she's protective of. I'm not going to tattle on her though."

They shared a conspiratory smile, and for the rest of the day-into-night, traded one story after another about their fallen friends...

* * *

_Obi-Wan watched as Garen and Knight Rhara walked down a dimly lit long hallway, whispering something to one another as they approached an elevator. Obi-Wan saw the door open, and a dark figure stood in the entryway, watching the pair of Jedi. Obi-Wan couldn't get a good read on the figure, it was blurry, coated with darkness, masking it properly from view. There was a brief flicker of blonde hair and blue eyes upon a female figure. It was... familiar... where had he seen this before? Wait... wait... the vision! He remembered, the vision he had of him and Qui-Gon dueling the figure! Of the figure beginning to run Qui-Gon through..._

_He watched as the Jedi approached, trepidation roiling through him, and then they took notice of the figure. Garen seemed surprised, and then excited at first. A reaction that stumped Obi-Wan. He wished he could hear what Garen was saying, he seemed to know who the figure was. Knight Rhara was more wary, studying the figure intently, warily. Then, the figure igniting a blood red lightsaber and dove at Garen. Rhara ignited her blade and caught the blow.  
_

_The sheer **-betrayal-** emanating from Garen was palpable. He was shocked, devastated, by the figure trying to kill him. He stood there in a stupor, watching his Master fight and start to rapidly lose the duel against the unknown darksider. Garen joined in, but was thrown back, and then... the darksider picked apart the Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan recognized the art of Makashi in her movements from some of the lessons Master Dooku had given him. The Darksider stabbed quickly, in triple succession, and then decapitated the knight when she collapsed to the ground.  
_

_Garen's pain and grief was palpable as he charged the darksider. Garen struck wild, heavy blows, pushing... no, the Darksider was letting herself be pushed back. The end came quickly, she scored a blow against his legs, crippling him, and then Garen said something, making the darksider charge him in anger. Garen tried, desperately, one last strike, but she evaded it and struck him down, severing through his spine, and then stabbing him through the back, killing him.  
_

_Anger and grief ripped through Obi-Wan at the sight..._

_And then he was slightly stunned, and confused, to see the darksider bury her face into Garen's back, a pitched wail of loss escaping her lips. She was mourning...?_

_Then, the elevators opened up, and a pitch black figure stalked forward, radiating darkness, evil, enough to chill Obi-Wan to his core. It demanded something of the younger darksider, who didn't react, aside from a sob. It seemed to enrage the elder darksider, and lightning ripped from his fingertips, screams of pain ripping through the air..._

Obi-Wan gasped and bolted upright in his bed, sweat rolling down his forehead, breathing raggedly. He stared at nothing for a long moment, struggling with what the Force had shown him. He felt... violently ill... this... this wasn't a dream. The Force had shown him this... Garen hadn't been killed by pirates, he had been murdered by a darksider... who mourned his death? It made no sense... yet...

Obi-Wan licked his lips, flicked on his lights, and went for his com-link, silently praying it would be picked up.

His grandmaster's articulate tone chimed through. " _It is rather late on Coruscant for you to be contacting me, my young grandpadawan._ "

"Master Dooku... I..."

" _What is it Obi-Wan_?" lightly-veiled concern was in his voice.

"I had a vision, two really," he admitted.

" _I see,_ " said Dooku slowly, " _Is this not something your Master should help with?"_

"Dreams pass in time," muttered Obi-Wan, "That's all he's ever said on the topic before."

" _Ah_ ," murmured Dooku, " _Well, that, you may fault me for. It was my advice for him, though, his mostly were just dreams or nightmares rather than visions, attuned to the living force as he is._ "

Dooku went silent for a moment, thinking, before answering, " _I have some time, I was about to enter hyperspace towards my next spot in my investigation, I can wait for awhile and listen._ "

"This... might be pertinent to your investigation," said Obi-Wan tensely.

" _Oh?_ " he could hear the focus in Dooku's voice at that.

"Did you know Knight Rhara and her Padawan, Garen Muln?"

" _I knew the former as a young troublemaker my Padawan was somewhat fond of_ ," said Dooku slowly, not quite sounding like he knew where this was going, but allowing it.

"Garen was my friend," said Obi-Wan softly, "Both he and his master were supposedly killed by pirates about a month ago."

" _Ah, I'm sorry for your loss_ ," said Dooku before shifting focus, " _Supposedly?_ "

"I had a vision, they weren't killed by pirates, they were killed by a darksider."

He heard a faint hiss though the comlink. " _Detail this vision, **now**_."

So he did, and when he finished, he waited silently, before Dooku said one, firm word. " _Iris._ "

"What?"

" _Do you remember, what I told you, about Master Ur Manka, and the fallen padawan he had taken in?_ "

"Vaguely... something about a female padawan who had been tortured dark by... oh," said Obi-Wan, the connection dawning on him.

" _Yes, oh_ ," said Dooku irritably, though Obi-Wan felt the irritation was not directed at him, " _If the figure you saw was this powerful darksider, and he must have been to use Force Lightning_ ," there was a distasteful shudder from Dooku, " _Then it is evident she fell back into his hands, and he is working to make the girl damn herself. This is worse than I expected it to be at this point. He's training a Jedi Killer, turning one of our own against us. Thank you for this information Obi-Wan, I'll look into Knight Rhara and Padawan Muln's last mission as a possible clue in my investigation..._ "

"Wait Master Dooku, I... I told you there was a second vision," said Obi-Wan uneasily.

There was silence for a moment, and a weary sigh. " _Go on then._ "

So he did, trying to recall as best he could the vision he had over a year ago, ending as the vision had been cut off with the darksider, with Iris about to run Qui-Gon through. Dooku was deathly silent for a long moment, then his voice grew icy. " _I see. How much older did you appear in this vision?_ "

" _I... a few years at least, I think?_ " he said uncertainly, " _I looked a little more mature. No more than five years from now, I think_."

" _And still a Padawan?_ " inquired Dooku slowly.

"I still had a braid."

Dooku went silent again for another long, and very uncomfortable moment. " _I will pick up the pace then. This 'Iris' will become a dangerous threat, to be able to face one of our most successful Master-Padawan pairs and win. No, is already a dangerous threat. She must be neutralized, and her dark master hunted down._ "

Obi-Wan hesitated, thinking of the grief the darksider had shown, and as much as he was angry over Garen's death, compassion was the way of the Jedi. "Do you think anything could be done for 'Iris'?"

" _At this point Obi-Wan, it might be better to just put 'Iris' out of her misery, it would be a kindness_ ," said Dooku firmly.

Obi-Wan said nothing at that, just sighing.

" _Go to sleep Obi-Wan_ ," said Dooku tiredly, " _Let the old men clean up the mess of their generation and pave the way for a better future for the young. Keep this between us for now my grandpadawan._ "

With that, Dooku ended the transmission, leaving Obi-Wan alone. The padawan flicked off his lights, sitting alone in the darkness. He played the vision over in his mind, again and again, trying to see if he could figure anything else out of it. The pain, each time he saw Garen die, lessened, and instead, it was replaced by a sense of loss and waste, both for Garen...

And for Iris...

What a waste of young, promising Jedi...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on having Siri and Dooku meet before the aftermath of the Phantom Menace, but... now I feel the need for a clash. :D
> 
> Poor Obi-Wan, so close to putting it together, just missing a few key details...
> 
> Anyway, next chapter, The Road to Damnation, is the last before we skip to the Phantom Menace. I'm going to give preemptive warnings that Siri is going to be doing awful, uncomfortable, and well, damning things.


	19. The Road to Damnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Siri is full on sprinting down the slippery slope...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is... Siri doing very bad and immoral things. Minor timeskips between each scene.
> 
> Also, this chapter is rated M for Mature.

Siri rarely got downtime from Sidious between missions. Mostly, that happened when he was busy... elsewhere, and she finished a mission early, not sending any signal to indicate she was done. She generally spent that free time either training to use Zannah's lightsaber, practicing Makashi or Soresu, learning Sorcery from Zannah, or prowling the lower levels of Coruscant looking for an excuse to let out her darker tendencies and vent. More often then not, people ( _scum_ ) tried to take advantage of a lone young woman, either to mug or assault her. They always ended up dead, and Siri just a tad more satisfied returning to the compound than she had been leaving.

Siri plodded down a run down street, taking in the hustle and bustle of the underworld in a single glance. She wrinkled her nose at it all, passing over the area with her senses to see if there was anything of interest. The only thing that somewhat stood out was a young rodian woman sitting in a doorway starting to light up a death stick, stressed out. Siri walked over and snatched it out, crushing it underfoot. "There are better ways to kill yourself than this."

The rodian jumped up and started spouting angrily, "Ha! Kill myself? The brats will do it for me soon enough! That was my one way to take the edge off between jobs you bitch!"

Siri's senses flickered inside, feeling the presence of a large cluster of young beings. "Running a daycare while spiced out of your mind is a bit irresponsible."

The rodian glowered at her. "I'd like to see you handle all those brats!"

"Do I get paid for it?" she asked mockingly.

To her horrified amazement, the rodian just stalked off. Siri stood there in a slight stupor, before locking onto the rodian's presence and deciding she was going to kill the woman later on. There was no other adult in the building, and the woman just left them in there? Not even sure Siri was actually going to do it, or checking her credentials for that matter? Irresponsible, and beyond criminal. Siri didn't particularly care about the children, they weren't her problem, but it was the principle of the matter...

She sighed and walked into the building, a run down apartment. She stood in the hallway for a moment, watching children of various species howl and jump around. Well... this was different then the temple creche, that was for certain. None of the little monsters paid her much attention, a few of them were rolling on the floor, struggling and punching one another before knocking into a holovision stand and knocking it over right ontop of...

Siri held out her hand and caught it with the Force, her temper flaring. " _ **ENOUGH**_!"

She projected the command in through the Force into each and every one of their heads, and they all grew still, standing and turning towards her. She waved a hand and put the holovision back on its stand before motioning the children into the... living room maybe, was that what it was called? There was a torn up couch, a cracked table, some board games scattered around, and a broken window with glass on the floor near it, bloody glass, one of the children had probably cut themselves on it before. The room was utterly trashed.

"Clean it up," she said in a warning tone, pressure them through the Force.

Children, of course, had basically no resistance. They obeyed without question, eyes blank, moving as a unit to make the run down room at least somewhat respectable.

"Line up," ordered Siri, eyes watching as the children did so, blank eyes staring at her, waiting.

There was a... thrill that went up her spine. At commanding. At being obeyed. She felt a hunger. To mold. To make her own...

And a slow smile crept across her lips, she motioned them forward. "Come to me."

She examined the minds of the young with open curiosity as they encircled her, comparing differences to what she could recall from those she had peered into before. So defenseless, so easy to mold. She could lace compulsions in, and it would affect them for the rest of their lives. Their still developing minds could be built around her desires...

"Do you want to please me?" she asked, a hushed whisper escaping her lips.

She pushed the notion into them, and a choir of, "Yes Mistress," echoed around her.

Well... Mistress had a certain ring about it that Siri more than liked. "Good, good."

Siri hesitated briefly before pushing the thought aside; now was as good a time as any to practice compulsions. "Do you wish to serve me?"

"Yes Mistress."

She let the Force flow from her, into their minds. "You don't like your life in these _slums_ , do you?"

"It's awful down here."

"Mom hits me."

"Dad was shot a few days ago."

"There's scary people walking around."

"Someone peeked into my window last night and tried to get in."

Siri let it all wash over her, pressing the distress, the discontent, and fear into their minds. "I can help to deliver you from this place, would you want that?"

"Yes Mistress!"

"Please Mistress!"

"Shh children, shh," said Siri, placating them, and began to press the dark, one at a time, into their minds, "I can show you how to help yourselves. How to hate this life, and desire to be free of it. But I can't do it for you, you have to free yourself..."

She tilted her head, an ironic smile crossing her face. "You have to break your own chains."

"So listen, and listen well children," she said, kneeling down, "Hate this life. Resent it. Crush anyone that would keep you down here. Let nothing stand in your way from escaping this place, from making a real life for yourself, for becoming intelligent, ruthless, important, and powerful. Just remember... that is was your Mistress that helped you break your chains. That you owe it to _**ME**_. That if I come calling one day, for you to repay your debt, you will gladly give everything, up to and including your lives, for _**ME**_."

Her smile turned sinister as she wove the compulsions easily into their innocent and defenseless young minds, carefully placing them so the developing brains would simply build over and hide them for her. She had given them the drive, it was up to them to see if they could break free. If they did... well... they were potential tools to use one day in the future if they made anything of themselves. It was her first taste of a long term plan. If she could call it that. It wasn't a fallback, or a contingency, or anything like that, just... leaving herself potential openings in the future if she and they were in the right place at the right time. There was slim chance of that with so few...

_This isn't right... they're just children..._

She pushed aside the thought, after all, she was helping them in a sense. She wondered...

"Children," she asked, her smile devious, "Are there any other daycares around here...?"

* * *

"Siri darling!" cried out Zannah, her gatekeeper bursting to life, "It's been so long!"

"It's hardly been a month since we last talked," said Siri irritably, flopping down on her bed in the Coruscant compound, "I'm tired, and going to sleep."

"But Tachiiii!" whined Zannah, "I've come up with a solution to your weakness!"

And then any thoughts of resting vanished in a instant. Her heart seized for a moment and she bolted upright, cold, and glowered darkly at Zannah.

A sly smile crossed Zannah's face. "To your little ' _infatuation_ '."

"Infatuation," said Siri flatly.

"Yes, infatuation," said Zannah dismissively, "Honestly, I've poked around enough in your head-don't give me that look! It comes with the territory of using a Holocron, get over it. As I was saying, you were what, kind-of-rivals-kind-of-friends with the boy? Then you share a near death mission, kiss once, and then pine for the boy all this time? It's nonsense, a first love you just refuse to ditch like the baggage it is."

Siri's fists tightened. It wasn't like she hadn't thought that before... it just... she didn't want to let it go. The memory of Obi-Wan was one of the few things she still had that wasn't tainted by the Dark Side or picked apart... perhaps the only thing these days.

"So, I have a question," said Zannah, raising her eyebrow suggestively, "Ever fantasize about doing the dirty with him?"

Siri flushed. "E-excuse me?"

"Come on, surely you wanted to do more than just hold hands," mocked Zannah.

Siri glared, but knew she wasn't keeping the blush out off her face. "I... that's none of your business!"

Zannah rolled her eyes. "Children."

"I'm almost eighteen!"

Zannah scoffed. "Sooo old and mature."

Before Siri could respond, Zannah continued, "Anyway, since I have no clue where and what the boy is doing to just have you go and nip the problem in the bud properly with a lightsaber through his gut," Siri's stomach churned, "I thought about just getting the desire out of your system."

"What... do you mean?"

"You yearn and hunger for him, so why not sate it?" asked Zannah coyly, "You do know, illusions can be cast on others, not just yourself, right?"

"You're point being...? What?" asked Siri, not liking where this was going.

"Find a redheaded human boy, make an illusion over him to make him look like your little infatuation, kriff him, and get it out of your system," said Zannah.

Siri went completely silent for a long moment. "You're not serious."

"Probably need to do it a few times to sate it," mused Zannah, "But after, that little infatuation should go away."

Siri just stared at her. "I might have been a Jedi, but even I know love is more than just sex."

Zannah sneered. "What use does a Sith have for _love_ except to use against others? A Sith does not know _love_. I sure as hell never did."

And Siri... didn't know if she should feel pity for Zannah for that or not. She's not also sure if its true or not. Probably truth for Zannah as long as she had been a Sith, but before? Well... she doubted Zannah would ever tell her of before...

"Well? Get to it," said Zannah dismissively.

"I haven't agreed..."

"I don't recall giving you a choice," said Zannah coldly, the eyes of her Gatekeeper flashing coldly, "Unless you'd rather I inform Sidious?"

Siri tensed, a hiss escaping her lips. "Do you want to be destroyed Zannah?"

The Gatekeeper crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Why are you so stubborn about this? Are you, or are you not, a Sith Apprentice?"

"I am..."

"Then stop pretending you're not," snarled Zannah, "A Sith has no hesitation. A Sith has no weakness. And a Sith cares for no insignificant Jedi. A Sith takes whatever they want. So go and take what you want, and get rid of this chain holding you back. It's a ridiculous first love infatuation, burn through it, and move on. It's frankly embarrassing."

Siri stared at Zannah silently, struggling, before she slowly turned and stalked out of the room. Her anger roiled around her, cool and viscous. How dare she? How dare **_she_**? Slap Obi-Wan's face on some random person and kriff them? What was Siri then, a whore? What was Obi-Wan then, some object to be used? He was _**hers**_! That memory belonged to her, something precious, to be kept locked up safe in the back of her mind and occasionally peeked at, not something to be sullied, used, and cast aside...

Honestly, kriff Obi-Wan and be done with it, really?

She flinched a little, at the tingle, the jolt, actually thinking the thought brought her though. Obi-Wan had always been a cute boy, he'd be rather handsome now...

She shook her head, was she seriously even considering this for a second? It was just some sick little fantasy Zannah wanted her to go through...

A fantasy like any dream of her and Obi-Wan had ever been... even if she hadn't fallen, they never would have gone any farther than they had as Jedi. It was forbidden, and deep down, she knew, if she hadn't fallen, she doubted either of them would have been able to break free of the Order and go off together to start a family, to be happy...

Her fists shook, whether in fury or grief, she didn't know. She held onto a lie, she knew that she did. She just... she didn't want to give it up.

_Then don't..._

She pushed away the thought, away Obi-Wan's voice. She hated her conscious, she really did. Why it even bothered anymore she didn't know. If Obi-Wan knew even half of the things she'd done, he'd hate her. Especially Garen... murdering their friend... if he knew, he'd turn his back on her. Turn his back for so many things she'd done all in the name of attaining the power she needed to kill Sidious...

_And what happens after Sidious?_

Siri pushed the thought away, that was decades away. Decades more of sins and crimes...

_Whats the point of this power, if it costs you everything? If you don't end up killing me, Sidious will when he enacts the Grand Plan..._

Siri hissed. "Shut up."

_You'll kill Sidious, and then end up no better than him..._

She stopped walking, pressing her forehead against the nearest wall and covering her ears. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!"

She focused her hate, of Sidious, of Zannah, of the Sith, of the Republic, of the Jedi, of _herself_ , and wrapped it around her, shutting away the voice. She took a few deep, ragged breaths, and decided she really hated that voice too. Zannah said her little plan should cut away Obi-Wan, if not, maybe it would finally kill that inner voice. She stalked out of the compound into the Coruscant night, hiding away her Force Presence, and moved to the lower levels. Her eyes washed over the degenerates, the scum, and the hopeless, sensing and probing as she went.

Finally, she found one that looked roughly the right age, a human boy, adolescent close to the last age she had seen Obi-Wan at, red hair and blue eyes, dressed in obvious hand-me-down clothes. She didn't detect any diseases or illnesses in this one. She pressed into his mind, ' _You will go into an alleyway_.'

He stopped walking for a moment, looking confused, and obeyed. Siri followed, ' _You will go around the trash compacter_ '.

He did so.

' _Turn_ '

He did, and Siri lashed out, grabbing his throat and pinning the boy up against the wall Force imbued strength. "Be silent."

The teenage boy squeaked in terror, a high pitched voice, so unlike Obi-Wan's, begged, "P-please don't kill me!"

She pulled him back and slammed him into the wall, hard. "I said shut up! Do what you're told, and you might live."

He clammed up, shivering. Siri drew on the Dark Side, closing her eyes, and imagined Obi-Wan. She weaved the deception around the boy, and when she opened her eyes, she choked a little at the sight. "Obi..."

The fake-Obi-Wan opened his mouth, confused, bit Siri tightened her grip on his throat. "I told you not to speak."

_Siri, don't do this..._

She reached a hand up, caressing fake-Obi-Wan's face, her head leaning forward. "Obi-Wan..."

_It's rape Siri!_

She hesitated for a moment, a heavy swallow of bile going down her throat, her hands shaking. "I... I don't care anymore. Whats this compared to half the other things I've done? That I will do?"

She pressed her body against the fake-Obi-Wan and kissed him, deeply, passionately, _possessively_. Her hands gripped his head tightly, pulling him deeper into her grasp. The tingling sensations running down her body were strange... were good. She pulled back, slightly out of breath, face flushed. "My Obi-Wan, _mine_."

She took him to the ground, lips hungrily smashing against his. It was a clumsy, possessive tangle. She pulled back again, licking her lips, the taste... wasn't what she imagined it would be. There was a slightly foul sensation, something he had eaten recently made her wrinkle her nose. What's worse was the fear on Obi-Wan's face...

"Stop looking at me like that," she snarled, "Obi-Wan wouldn't be afraid of me."

"I'm not whoever the hell this Obi-Wan is you crazy freak!" cried out Obi-Wan in someone else voice.

Siri seethed, her fantasy fracturing. She grabbed his head and smashed it back against the wall again and again. "SHUT UP!"

Obi-Wan had a dazed look afterwards, blood running down his nose and out of his mouth, a bit on the wall behind him. She kissed him again, and this time, the blood on his lips drowned out the other taste, and it was sweet. She paused to consider what she was supposed to do next. She understood anatomy, they had that class in the temple, she knew what went where, but she didn't... didn't know what else to do. She had the urge to roam her hands all over his body, have his over hers, to press against him, a hunger in her core, but nothing she really understood.

She went with what she knew, briefly pulling away to take off her lower clothes, doing the same for Obi-Wan. She stared down at the organ between his legs, she reached out and touched it, watching it twitch. Her own legs were twitching, there was a heat between them that had her in a confused flux. She pressed herself against him, kissing and tasting blood again, growling under her breath as she shifted back and forth ontop of him. She looked down when she felt something poking between her butt. His organ had grown in size. She grabbed and positioned it before shoving down on it.

Her breath briefly hitched as a sharp and quick pain hit her. It was nothing compared to taking Force Lightning, just... strange, deeper, a continual pain and a bit of pressure where he was. There was a brief groan from Obi-Wan, not... not how he sounded. So she reached over and wrapped her hands around his throat to shut him up as she brought herself up and down clumsily. Each was an uncomfortable spike of pain, and a sensation like she was rubbing skin against something to roughly and quickly, wasn't this supposed to feel good? She went a few more times before Obi-Wan half-cried-half-gurgled and shoved upward, and she felt a twinge of a warm, wet sensation in her. She frowned a little, and kept going for a little bit until he fell out, smaller now.

She stared down, incredulous, at the bloody looking thing ( _was that her blood?_ ), a small trickle of white goop dripping down from her with the blood. Was that **_IT_**?! A surge of anger overtook her, and she lost control of her illusion, and then Obi-Wan was gone, and there was some sobbing half-dead redhead boy laying there in a daze. She absolutely lost it, she took him by his throat, squeezing with Force enhanced strength and smashed him against the wall behind him, pulling him back and smashing him again, over and over again, snarling in rage...

Until her fingers dug in and ripped out his throat, blood gushing out at her and to cover his chest. She sat there for a moment, and then let loose a scream of anger. She smashed his head into a blood pulp and then stood up, fuming. What a worthless waste of time. The boy broke the fantasy over and over again, it had hurt, hadn't felt good at all, she now needed to get a contrafertive... contraceptat, whatever the hell it was called to make sure she didn't get pregnant...

_You raped and killed him..._

...and all she really got out of that was a sicking lump in her stomach, more guilt to lump with the rest, just with self-disgust to throw in now. She leaned over the corpse, pressing her face against the smooth metal wall, and took a ragged breath. She pulled away and grabbed her clothes, putting her lower half back on. She knelt down to wipe the blood on her hands off on his clothes before grabbing the corpse and dumped it in the trash compacter, stalking out of the alleyway, pulling her hood up. No one nearby even batted an eye in her direction. No one cared.

She stalked the streets in a dark haze, hating the boy, hating herself... hating Obi-Wan even. Just hating everything. She took her memories of Obi-Wan, and she shoved them deep down, as deep as she could, and made her way to a store to get something to make sure she didn't get some worthless bastard's baby in her...

* * *

Siri grumbled under her breath, hiding on ceiling pipes as she spied on a trade meeting on the planet Saleucami, in its capital city of Talecema. A circular city of towering buildings, a kind of mini Coruscant until the outer parts where one could actually see greenery. The Techno Union was apparently trying to claim the world as one of it's 'Mechworlds'. Sidious wanted this deal to go smoothly, so she was to observe and make sure nothing went wrong. There was an air of trepidation in the Force, but it didn't feel directed at the meeting itself, it was... elusive.

She shook it off and refocused. The Techno Union was being represented by one Wat Tambor. She had done a bit of research, and had found the Skakoan to be a bit of an upstart within the Union, very quickly rising through the ranks. If she had to guess, he'd end up Foreman before the decade was up. He had a decently impressive history, especially as a combat engineer, developing the skills on the planet Metalorn. She briefly pulled out her personal datapad and flagged Tambor as someone to keep a loose eye on. He could have uses down the road. Though, chances were Sidious was already ahead of her in this regard. Her Master had her fingers deep in the Trade Federation, the Techno Union, and all the big conglomerates after all.

From what she could see and hear, the deal appeared to go off without a hitch. No assassinations, no backstabbing, nothing, simple and easy. So, she made her exit, crawling through air vents, and popping out the side of the building, landing below with the Force to cushion her fall. She stretched briefly, and quickly made about making herself scarce, twisting cameras away, and taking a Force assisted leap over a security fence. She pulled her hood tighter to her, and slipped quietly between buildings and into the streets. The city was the world's primary spaceport, and thankfully had individual launch pads. All she had to do was get back to her ship and the mission was a success. Not that it had been particularly trying.

She made her way to the outskirts of the city, paid her toll to the shipping authorities, waded through hallways of spacers and tourists, and slipped into her docking bay...

And froze.

Standing there between her and her ship was an aged Jedi. Gray hair, sideburns, beard, and mustache sat on an older, lined and stern face. His brown eyes were sharp, appraising her silently, hand moving to rest gently on the curved lightsaber hilt hanging off his belt. He wore only his brown tunic and pants, no outer robes. He was... vaguely familiar to her, she knew she had met him once or twice...

The Force was blaring an open warning to her now, the trepidation from early now turned into a dire threat.

A cultured voice rang out, deep and pointed. "Iris, I presume."

Siri's breath hitched for a moment, but she didn't respond otherwise. She cursed Master Ur Manka silently for sending that transmission to Yoda, the Jedi knew she existed. Not who or what she was, but that there was a darksider out there.

"You were quite difficult to track down," mused the Jedi, "I suppose I owe my grandpadawan greatly for confirming your race, and hair color."

Siri's eyes furrowed under her hood. What was he going on about? She had encountered no Jedi that she had let live who had actually seen enough of her to get a description.

"That, and your tendency to frequent checking up on the trade conglomerates," said the Jedi mildly, "You are quite thorough in masking your presence, but you missed a camera here and there. I will confess, I guessed where you'd end up this time, between several important meetings or trade deals."

Siri scowled, but again, refrained from speaking. Her hood kept her identity a secret, she wasn't going to throw that away by speaking and perhaps risking him recognizing her voice, or sharing the memory with someone who could. To be more safe then sorry, she grasped her hood firmly with the Force, willing and anchoring it down, pushing that focus to the back of her mind in whatever conflict was about to happen. He could hurry it up though, he liked to hear himself talk alot. Perhaps she should hurry that along.

She unhooked Zannah's lightsaber from her belt, the only one she wore anymore, and activated one end. She was confident enough to use the lightsaber with Makashi and Soresu now, but she'd stick to one end active unless she absolutely needed the other. The aged Jedi eyed the hilt, tracing its length, nose wrinkling in distaste, he probably recognized it as a saberstaff. Though, that dislike of it... that was vaguely familiar...

The man unhooked his lightsaber, igniting the blue blade... and did a Makashi salute.

Oh kriff.

Kriff kriff kriff!

That was Master Dooku!

New plan. _**RUN**_! She didn't stand a chance against him in a lightsaber duel yet.

Siri turned and bolted back down the way she came. There was a derisive scoff from Dooku, and she felt him give chase. The ship she had was non-descript and disposable, it had nothing of value on it. She'd find another way offworld, or maybe circle-back if she could loose Dooku. No, stupid idea, he'd have put a tracker on it. She slashed a door open, shoving through it, then flung the pieces behind her at Dooku with the Force. He bated them aside without stopping. She briefly glanced back and swore, for an old bastard he was _fast_.

People scrambled out of her way, and Dooku's, as the two ran. The moment they exited the building, he put on a burst of speed and caught up with her. It took her a split second to realize he had waited until they were not in the middle of civilians to do so. She rolled as he swung at her back, coming up and pivoting as she swung. He deflected with graceful ease and riposted at her shoulder. She shifted downward, barely making it miss, and rolled again, swinging up as him as she did. He twirled away from the attack.

She staggered to her feet, coming to her feet and coming to a Soresu opening stance, two fingers pointed at him, blade angled downward. He appraised the stance for a brief moment before smiling. It was the smile of someone who had decided they already won. To be fair, if it really came to a lightsaber duel, he would win. But that wasn't what she was going for. He closed the distance, taking the bait, and made for an opening swing...

Only for a bolt of lightning to surge from her finger and slam into his chest. He staggered back in a brief, surprised gasp, hand going up to clutch at his chest. She aimed her hand full on and released a burst of Force Lightning at him, trying to take advantage. Instead, he raised his lightsaber and caught the attack, hand dropping away from his chest, a dark scowl on his face.

"You delve into dark arts that are best forgotten, young one," said Dooku in a warning tone as they began to circle eachother, "Did you learn this from your dark master?"

If he thought Force Lightning was the worst she could do, he was sorely mistaken. Him keeping his distance was to her advantage.

"For a darksider, you are rather quiet," said Dooku, "No boasting of your power?"

But, she wasn't sure she should reveal any more of her abilities, especially in the open where people could see, and against a foe that she didn't think she could actually kill.

"Perhaps your silence is because of shame," Dooku mused, "After all, you do Master Ur Manka and whoever your original master was such due credit."

Siri flinched.

And Dooku struck, thrusting forward for a quick, lethal strike. Siri could only manage to deflect downward and away, not enough to escape her momentary lapse in concentration cleanly. His lightsaber burned into her outer thigh, earning a hiss of pain as she staggered back. Kriffing hells!

Dooku advanced again, lightsaber raised...

And Siri thrust her hand forward, giving a furious cry, and launched him backwards with the Force, sending him head over heels into a crown of watchers.

Watchers.

Civilians.

She should have thought of that to begin with! She couldn't escape him if his speed was evident enough, and she doubted he'd stop chasing her, so she had to force him to back off. She turned, aimed a hand at a random civilian, no, scratch that, pick the child, and pulled them across the distance to her. There was a surprised yelp, and a cry from perhaps their family, before Siri had a young Twi-Lek in her grasp, lightsaber pressed close to its throat. Dooku had just recovered and separated from the crowd before pausing, narrowing his eyes at Siri.

"And thus how far the lost have fallen, have you no shame?" chided Dooku, "Using a _child_ as a shield?"

Siri began to back away, her thigh flaring in pain as she did, and dragged the child back towards the entrance to the docking bays. Dooku followed behind at a distance, a number of authorities at his heels, blasters drawn. "Let the child go, Iris."

She felt the persuasion in the air, but kept her shields tight to her, letting it roll around her like a waves upon a rocky shore. She rechecked her shields while she was at it, tight as they had been at the start, even with that momentary lapse, he shouldn't have been able to get any kind of read on her Force Presence. She slipped down the hallways of the port, and back to her ship. She'd take it to... Alexi, he ought to be able to scan for a tracker. Though, she'd need to send a message to him first as to not risk leading Dooku to anywhere important.

She reached her ship a few minutes of backpedaling later, fiddling with the control in her pocket to lower the ramp. She paused briefly at the foothold, considering the child in her grasp. She glanced up, at Dooku in the doorway to the docking bay, eyes raptly on her, critical of her every move. She was tempted to kill the child out of spite towards him, but he could probably close the distance before she shut the ramp if she did so. She'd take the child with her then, give them to the Black Sun to do with as they pleased.

"I will find you again, Iris," said Dooku calmly, "You and your dark master."

She pursed her lips. Siri was one thing, Sidious was another. If Dooku delved to deep, all he would find would be death or damnation. She didn't particularly care to warn him, and merely dragged the child onboard her ship, closing the ramp behind her. She dropped the child with a sleep suggestion and made for the cockpit, willing her thigh to _stop_ screaming at her. She was in the air a moment later, making for space. She keyed in the comm for Alexi's personal number and waited.

Then Garyn's pretty-boy face lit the holoterminal, an eyebrow raised. " _Well look who it is, you wouldn't believe the news channel that was just brought to my attention a few minutes ago._ "

Siri just groaned. "Please tell me that it isn't what I think it is."

" _I had a man keeping tabs on a certain deal being made on Saleucami, you wouldn't believe how surprised, and irritated, I was for him to interrupt a meeting to bring it to my attention_ ," said Alexi before going smug, " _Was it just me, or did that Jedi manhandle you for that few moments you fought him? Mighella was positively elated to see you running with your tail between your legs._ "

Siri pinched the bridge of her nose. "That was Jedi Master Dooku, he's out of my league for the moment. I need either a ship exchange, or a scan to find a tracker."

" _Done, I'll send you coordinates,_ " said Alexi, " _And I'll throw in a bacta patch, that hit on your leg looked like it hurt, dearest._ "

"Thanks Lex," she said, giving a brief smile, "I've got a gift for you in return."

" _Oh?"_

"Want a twi-lek kid?"

" _Mmmm, I can find some use of it_ ," said Alexi dismissively, " _Do you need a place to lay low for awhile? It has been awhile since the three of us has shared company._ "

Siri shook her head. "No, I need to get back to Sidious and..."

She froze. "Oh kriff."

She had just been seen, and recorded ( _not her face thankfully_ ), and let a Jedi live through an encounter.

"Sidious is going to kill me," she said flatly.

Alexi frowned briefly. " _Hard to tell through the connection, was that a serious 'kill me', or beat the shit out of you 'kill me'? I can arrange for you to disappear if you need to._ "

She sighed. "No, no, I'll... live. I'll probably wish I hadn't, but I'll live. Running will only either make it worse, or make him actually kill me."

Alexi shrugged. " _Your choice I suppose. The doors of the Black Sun are always open to you S..._ "

"Iris," said Siri with a snap, "Call me Iris when we're not in the same room, and if you have any files or recordings or anything with my actual name, edit them to Iris. That's the name the Jedi know, and they can't find out my real one."

Alexi rolled his eyes. " _Iris dearest, you are creating such a hassle._ "

She grinned lazily. "Entering hyperspace now Lex darling, catch you later."

" _Oh? I'm a 'darling' now?_ " he managed to say, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

She responded by cutting the transmission and entering hyperspace, acting like Zannah did could be fun...

* * *

Siri knelt at Sidious foot in the Coruscant compound's meditation chamber, saying nothing, and waiting.

The Dark Lord stared down at her silently for a long moment. "What do the Jedi know of you, and _how_."

Straight to the point then, and considering the pressure building both against her throat and mind, best not to lie. "I... when I was poisoning Siolo Ur Manka, he sent a transmission to the Jedi about me. To them, my name is Iris, I'm a fallen Jedi Padawan who was abducted from her murdered master and tortured to the dark side by an unknown powerful darksider."

Sidious considered her for a moment, betraying nothing. "And Yan Dooku is the one in search of you."

"It... would appear that way," she answered.

His next response stumped her.

He tilted his head thoughtfully, a wry and sinister smile on his face. "Well now, that is an opportunity I didn't think I would have so soon."

"An opportunity?"

"To have Dooku chasing into the dark," said Sidious, lips peeled back into a sneer, "You see my apprentice, Dooku isn't the steadfast Jedi many would consider him to be. He is conflicted, he dislikes the council, detests the complacency of the Jedi Order, loathes the corruption in the senate."

"You think he can be of use?"

"I know he can," said Sidious with finality, "I've had my eye on him for a long time now. All he needs is temptation, and a bit of a push, and he could serve as a public pawn of the Sith."

Siri absorbed the information. Dooku's political views, even to the padawans and initiates, wasn't hidden. She could vaguely recall having known of his issues with the senate, temple gossip was an virulent thing. She wouldn't have guessed on him being a potential front for the Sith though. She wasn't in a position to spy on Jedi and figure out who had the potential to fall or not. It was something she made a mental note to mark as a thing she needed to pick up on in the future. Sidious gave little hints of strategy and long term plans here and there, she made an effort not to miss them when they were dropped. It felt like grasping for scraps from a dinner table. Sidious was a stingy bastard after all.

"While I am not pleased that your existence was revealed so soon," said Sidious in warning, closing off Siri's throat for a brief moment and letting her struggle before releasing her, "This may have a long term benefit, or at least save me some time perhaps."

Siri squinted. "So soon? You planned to reveal me?"

"There is a conflict brewing," said Sidious slowly, "A prelude to the beginning of the end for the Jedi. There are a few more strings to pull before then, but it will happen before the decade is up, and there, you will reveal who and what you truly are to the Jedi, and announce their end."

Siri swallowed.

Sidious paused for a moment. "What were your observations of Dooku?"

"He talks, alot," said Siri flatly before frowning, "He does a good Dun Moch without even realizing it. I think, if he put his mind to it he could really mess with people. He's persistent, and managed to track me down through little but scraps of hints and connecting the dots. He figured I spent a lot of time trailing the trade conglomerates and guessed where I'd be."

"Then I suppose we had best change your schedule up." said Sidious before he reached down and grasped her chin, yanking it upward. "Your training needs to take focus over missions for the time being. That display against Dooku was sloppy. You must be skilled enough to defeat Jedi Masters, even ones such as Dooku. Until I'm satisfied you can at least hold your own for a few minutes against him, you and I will be spending time in the training room."

Siri held back a spike of fear. She didn't like sparring with Sidious, _at all_.

"What of Dooku?"

"It's normal for the trail to go cold at times," said Sidious dismissively, "It will pick back up in time, and we will leave hints of you here and there, along with temptations to draw him closer to the dark..."

* * *

Siri's body ached.

It was all she could think about after a month of getting smacked around by Sidious. How she hated that bastard, she really did. She did however learn a great deal from him, he made Dun Moch an art-form, words twisting her own logic against her, filling her with doubt, mocking her into fury, and the like. Sidious's saber-style, no matter what form he used, was lethal, lethal, lethal, always a killing blow, at least when he wasn't mocking and toying with his prey. When it wasn't with him, she was training on her own, or having Zannah critique her. He had finally deemed her ' _adequate enough_ ' to leave the compound again. He had given her a list of people or groups to kill and sent her on her way.

It wasn't the first time he'd had her kill before, not even close. But a _list_? He made it seem like she was picking groceries up from a store. To him, it was probably close to the same thing anyway. He was dismissive enough about it, and so was she. She had punched in the coordinates and entered hyperspace without even bothering to look up the planet in question. When she finally dropped out of hyperspace... she raised an eyebrow.

The world in question was a _dump_. Even from space, she could see large swaths of blackened, devastated landscapes and large cities with a glow visible from space. Probably had some internal war. She reached for her datapad and pulled up the relevant details for her target... wait... the AgriCorps? She was targeting members of the Jedi Service Corps? Her eyebrows furrowed, why in the hell was Sidious sending her after washouts? Strange... she was to kill an entire crew of the AgriCorps stationed on the planet. Roughly twenty individuals. She rechecks to make sure her presence is sufficiently masked, and then reached out... there, they are all gathered in one area. She's rather surprised she can feel them so clearly from space. Their presences are open, unhindered... and doing _something_ with the Force that makes her just a tad confused. Perhaps she'd do a bit of recon before she'd kill them.

She sets down a ways away on a hilly landscape, nestling her ship between two hills, masked by one of the few trees that isn't burned down in the area. There is the remains of a woodland in the distance, burnt to the ground. Judging by the proximity of one crispy tree or trunk to another, all it would have needed was a single blaster bolt, grenade, mortar, or whatever, to start a fire that took the whole forest down. She sticks to the hilly side of the landscape, and makes her way towards the band of washouts. She crests a hill, and goes to her stomach, peering down.

Her first thought is rather embarrassing to her: _That's a grievously frivolous use of the Force._

The members of the AgriCorps, dressed in various clothes and belonging to various species, hardly looking as uniform as the Jedi Order did, are _levitating_ dozens and dozens of saplings out of a huge container attached to the bottom of a ship, rather than just manually lift them. Other members are helping to plant, and a further few are in meditative poses on the burned landscape. The latter ones are the ones drawing her attention. They are just... open... in the Force. It's like they are treating themselves as a conduit for the Living Force, weaving it into the damaged and charred landscape, healing it, encouraging it to grow.

This...

Wow...

This sure as hell isn't the farming Jedi Initiates fear their fate to be if they don't get picked by a Master.

Siri watches with a slight childlike awe, not unlike the first time she saw Jedi Masters really go at it, or learned about more exotic and enticing uses of the Dark Side. This is an aspect and use of the Force she hadn't known about, hadn't even a clue. She knew the Force could be used to heal _people_ , but heal plants? Heal devastated landscapes? She watches as the AgriCorps move with a swift, practiced efficiency; it will take time to help the landscape recover, but, she can see, can _feel_ , the difference they would have made here. She shifts her attention to the members themselves. Some of the younger ones are disquieted, discouraged, 'washouts' if Siri ever saw one. The older ones though... they are content, happy even to be doing their work. They are right where they want to be. They are making a difference, and they are _satisfied_.

She can feel it in them, their rather open and unguarded minds.

She takes note of that difference. They feel nothing like Jedi Knights or Masters. They aren't keep an open awareness of the area around them, they aren't on guard, aren't always ready for whatever comes their way. They are relaxed even. Its a completely different mindset from that of a Jedi Knight. Not to mention not one of them has a weapon that Siri can see. She purses her lips a little, but holds off on just going down there. She... well... she wants to watch and learn. So she does, for a few more hours.

What she likes best, childishly, is the so called ' _frivolous_ ' use of the Force. They used it for everything, even levitating their canteens from a box, something she would have gotten readily admonished for in the Order. And she's not blind to see how quickly, easily, and readily they can call on the Force. Like... that's Master level speed, if not _better_. Even from some of the middle-aged ones. It takes her only a little bit to figure out why, and it's kind of flooring to realize how obvious it should have been. The Force is kind of like a muscle, the more one uses it, the more it develops. They don't need to concentrate or focus at all, it just reacts. They are using the Force every day, actively, more than the average Jedi would do in a week, if not longer. Jedi are controlled, conservative, except when its time to do their duty. The AgriCorps just... are.

She rather likes that, and decides shes going to personally adopt that mindset herself. The Force is _hers_ to use as she wills, by her birthright as a Force Sensitive. Why listen to stuffy old Jedi Masters and their rules? Especially considering she's a darksider. Not to mention... Sidious has never made that kind of comment to her. She wont act frivolous around him, no, she wants it to be kept secret, another form of 'training' to one day hold over him. But sure as hell, she's going to use the Force as she wants to from now on. And the thought makes her smile darkly. She wonders how doing what the ArgiCorps are doing, sowing the land with the Force, would work with the Dark Side. She considers that, and Force Illusions. Oh... that's enticing, she's already theorizing how to weave her Sith Sorcery, creating an area of illusions embedded in the landscape itself, to confuse and perhaps drive mad anyone who walks into it; she's full on grinning with sinister delight.

An idea to test another time. Siri doubted Sidious intended for her to really gain anything out of this aside from more corpses at her hand, but she's rather appreciative of the mission she was given. She hopes shes sent after members of the other Service Corps, to see if she can learn anything from them too. She finds she rather approves of the work the AgriCorps are doing, perhaps its not as bad as a fate she had once feared, that doesn't mean however she isn't about to kill each and every one of them. Dusk is starting to set, it's about time she got her mission over with.

_Don't do it..._

She rose to her feet and started down the hill casually. None of the AgriCorps are even paying attention to anything but their task.

_They're doing good work... for a good cause..._

That's true, and perhaps after she's killed Sidious, she'll either let the AgriCorps as a whole live and continue to work for her, or rebuild them if he's enacted the Grand Plan prior to her ascension. Her Empire could use an organization like this.

_You might know some of them! They could be old friends..._

Her eyes flicker to the younger members, some of those faces are vaguely familiar... maybe they were initiates she had known once. Perhaps even out of her own youngling clan. But why should that matter? She killed Garen, and he had been a close friend. Her eyes flicker as one of the AgriCorps finally notice her approaching, but there is no suspicion or hostility, just mild curiosity and a greeting thrown her way. So trusting... that's something she'd have to eliminate in her own AgriCorps when she either took over or remade them.

She draws and thumbs Zannah's lightsaber on, the red illuminating the landscape around her ominously.

Ah, there's the fear.

She grins with malice.

And then she's moving, going for the older ones first before they can marshal any reaction.

They're screaming, all the meanwhile she's faintly hears herself screaming on the inside, and when they stopped screaming, she had not...

_I never wanted this..._

* * *

"A report to make, do you, Master Dooku?"

Grandmaster Yoda watched as his former padawans hologram rubbed his eyes tiredly. Even through the hologram Yoda could see the bags under his eyes. He was tired, and pushing himself heavily. Yoda could feel the Jedi Council as a whole studying Dooku's appearance with varying levels of apprehension.

" _I had another encounter with Iris_ ," said Dooku tiredly, " _She's getting better._ "

Yoda frowned. "Oh?"

" _It is strange, it has only been a few months since our initial meeting, but she's grown far faster than someone her age should. Even considering the harsh methods darksiders are known to use, her lightsaber skills are vastly above where they should be. I can't get an accurate read of her through the Force with the shields she uses, however... she's grown in all regards,_ " said Dooku before scowling, " _Including cruelty._ "

Yoda's heart sank, and he sighed. "Failed we did, to find her with Ur Manka, knew we did, that fall back into darkness, she could."

" _Fall back into, and far deeper,_ " said Dooku, " _She didn't hesitate to kill any who got in the way of our duel, not to mention throwing large objects at civilians to draw my attention. I had to let her go lest I allow a body count to climb._ "

"Why did you confront her in a populated area?" asked Mace Windu.

" _She was in a museum_ ," said Dooku, " _Inspecting a recent donation._ "

"Why?"

Dooku brought something out of his pocket, an odd ornament with a jagged symbol on it kind of like a wind chime, or a dream catcher, that set Yoda ill at ease. " _There was a dark side artifact there. I haven't been able to figure out what it's purpose is, but it fits a pattern I've noticed from her. She's hunting for such artifacts, and darker, forbidden knowledge. I've tracked and just missed her at a number of old Sith worlds or other such museums. Managed to drive her away from a few old texts written in ancient Sith I believe. I haven't been able to decipher them yet._ "

"Dooku," said Yaddle sharply, "Look into such dark things, you should not. Seal away, and return them to be isolated in the temple or destroyed, you should."

On that, Yoda agreed, nodding his head and humming his agreement.

Dooku scowled. " _Understanding Iris and her Master is important. Especially with what they are seeking. Some of the rituals I've been able to gleam information from these texts on... I fear they are trying to learn the powers of the Sith_."

A tension roiled through the council. Yoda's ears flicked wearily. "Try to recreate the Sith, you fear they wish to do?"

Dooku nodded. " _I've only seen Iris preform Force Lightning thus far, but I think its a given she, or at least her hidden Master, have probably discovered more. If this threat is not eliminated, it may lead eventually to their rebirth._ "

Ki-Adi-Mundi scoffed. "From just the two of them picking up what scraps they can find?"

"More, there could be," pointed out Yaddle, "Possible it is for more to be in hiding, when chase we do the obvious one."

"Only two there were when they last ended," pointed out Master Poof, "The two that survived the thoughtbomb on Ruusan tried to hide and blend in that way, before the last one died on Ambria. All it would take is one, and the knowledge could spread like a taint."

" ** _If_ ** there's even enough knowledge to recreate that _disease_ of an order," spat Windu, "Our ancestors took great effort to wipe out knowledge of the Dark Side. The Sith are over, long gone. Perhaps they could create another dark side cult, a threat to be sure if the Bando Gora aren't example enough, but the time of the Sith is long over, the Jedi won that fight almost a thousand years ago."

The council settled down at that, but Yoda... isn't so sure the potential threat should be so readily dismissed. He keeps his own council on that thought though. "Need more aid, do you, Master Dooku?"

Dooku shook his head. " _No, I am still well above her. Its her mobility that is currently an issue, if I could lock or pin her down I can easily win._ "

"Having another Master there would help with that," pointed out Plo Koon.

" _Unless it's an experience Master, or a council member, I fear they will throw their lives away_ ," countered Dooku, " _Iris will not hesitate in the slightest, a simple lapse in judgement or a moment of hesitation, and she will kill you. Few have experience facing the Dark Side to not let it affect them while facing it in battle. If I can't catch her within the next few years, she may start proving to be a decent challenge in a fight._ "

He scowled. " _I also think she's amused by leading me on a goose chase._ "

"You caught her by surprise the first time," said Master Piell, "Its possible she's intentionally leading you on now."

" _Possibly, but to what end, I don't know,_ " said Dooku.

"Away from her mysterious master perhaps?" suggested Master Tiin.

" _How could she lead me away from someone we have no knowledge or hints of?_ " said Dooku with a scoff, " _It's half the reason this chase isn't done yet. I can't decide if trying to capture her and perhaps get information on her master is worth not simply putting her down._ "

Yoda doesn't like that. Him referring to a sentient being, a former member of their Order, as an animal to be euthanized. He still toys with the idea Master Ur Manka had before he died, redeeming the fallen. He knows Ur Manka came close, he can feel it in his bones, and in the Force. He doesn't want to give up on this lost child of the Order, but he's not ignorant. There has to come a point when the loss of life and the damage isn't worth the cost of bringing her in. They know so little of what Iris has actually done, only what Dooku has observed. Its highly possible she's done significant more damage and killed many more people then they suspect. There is a reason they say that once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.

Mired so deep in darkness, they can't find their way out anymore, even with a light to shine the way.

Yoda watched Dooku's hologram flicker out, and wonders if he, Qui-Gon, or Obi-Wan would have to be Dooku's light before this is all said and done.

He fears Iris's light has already come and gone with Master Ur Manka's passing.

He supposes it depends on just how much of her darkness is her own, and how much her Master forced upon her.

If what Dooku has been reporting is any indication... by the time they do catch her, if they ever do, it might be to late for her, far to late...

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could keep going, with little short stories of her time between now and the Phantom Menace, but I think it's rather evident, Siri's going downhill very fast, and is only going to get worse and worse between now and then. I'll also leave this time period a bit open, to use as flashback material if need be. Next up is the first part of the Phantom Menace. I think... its roughly going to be split into 3-5 chapters. I'm not wasting time/words retelling the initial events from Obi-Wan/Qui-Gons PoV, it will be similar enough, but mostly from Siri's PoV.
> 
> So I'd think Tatooine - Coruscant - Naboo at a bare minimum.
> 
> Perhaps a chapter from Obi-Wan's PoV slid in here or there.


	20. Suprise Meetings

_32 BBY_

"Siri dearest," came a murmur in her ear, "You're comlink is ringing."

Siri blinked awake and rolled over, glancing over at the naked Alexi Garyn half out of bed, "Hrm...?"

"Considering the caller is labeled 'Old Bastard', I assume it's the old bastard," said Alexi with a laugh, pulling his pants on.

Siri sighed and rolled out of bed herself, reaching over for her comlink, clicked it on, and raised it to her mouth. "Yes Master?"

" _I am recalling you to Coruscant, I have a mission for you_ ," came Sidious's voice, " _I expect you here within the day. Do not dawdle or you will not like the punishment._ "

"As you will, Master," she said slowly before clicking off, her eyebrows furrowing, "Something important then if he's pressing in not to be late."

"Well, best be off then," said Alexi with a shooing motion.

"Oh yes, can't let Mighella catch me in your bed," mocked Siri slyly, "Honestly darling, we should try to get her in here with us."

Alexi snorted. "Mighella is immune to my charms unfortunately."

"Well, your charms and good looks are about the only good think you have going for you," mused Siri.

Alexi brought a hand to his chest. "You hurt me. Its like you completely look over all my other talents."

Siri reached for her clothes and began to put them on. "Mmm, maybe, I only really use you for a quick bit of fun these days."

"Well it's not _my_ fault your Master is a stingy old bastard that hardly shares you anymore," huffed Alexi, "Honestly, the Black Sun would love to have you back for even a week."

"What can I say? I am a woman of many talents."

Alexi snuck a sucking kiss on her neck. "I'll say."

Siri purred for a moment before dropping her playfulness. "Is the Scimitar fueled?"

"Mhm," said Alexi, "Did so last night, I put it on your 'tab'."

Siri grinned. "I have a tab?"

"You worked a bit of it off last night," he said nonchalantly, "I'll say you've certainly improved in some regards."

Siri snorted and made for the door. "I'll see you later Lex, give Mighella a hi for me when she gets back from playing babysitter for your Vigos."

Her smile turned into a scowl the moment she was out of the room and stalking down the halls, annoyed that she had been recalled so soon, pulling her hood on and making for her ship. Sidious had gifted her his old ship, the Scimitar, about two years ago. It was... well... there was a reason she lovingly called it her baby. That ship was _fast_ , among other things, and more than capable of putting on the speed she needed to get back to Coruscant in time. Of course, it also came with the responsibility of keeping it safe and secure, she couldn't just abandon it. It made her dance with Master Dooku over the last few years a bit more challenging since she couldn't just jump ship.

She smiled a little. It had been a few months since she had last played with the Jedi Master. It was like playing with fire, one wrong move and she'd be burned ( _dead_ ). But it was a fun little challenge. Not to mention, she was rather good at learning from experience. He was an excellent teacher of Makashi without realizing it, she didn't bring out her own use of Form II against him, she was saving that for a surprise one day when she eventually won and dragged him before Sidious...

* * *

Siri followed the sensation of her master's irritation into the Coruscant compound, down into their meditation room, he had a holoprojector set up.

" _...she has disappeared my lord,_ " rang out Nute Gunray's voice, automatically filled Siri with annoyance and disgust, " _One Naboo cruiser got past the blockade._ "

There was a slight growl from Sidious, and Siri could feel his rage. " _I want that treaty signed._ "

" _My lord, it's impossible to locate the ship, its out of our range_ ," said Gunray.

Siri felt a prod through the Force, and stepped forward to stand behind him, smiling icily at Gunray as Sidious spoke, "Not for the Sith."

Gunray went rigged through the hologram, and Siri purred out, "Hello Gunray, have you been misbehaving again?"

"My apprentice will find your lost ship," said Sidious flatly, "And will take the time spent wasting fixing your mess out of your hide."

Siri grinned. Oh, now she didn't mind having been recalled. It was rare that Sidious actually let her harm his tools. Gunray had really pissed him off this time. The hologram faded with Gunrays terrified face the last thing she saw. "Aww Master, you spoil me."

Sidious didn't spare her charm any attention, rarely did. "Are you aware of the Trade Federation Blockade of Naboo?"

"Vaguely," said Siri, "I assume its your work?"

Sidious nodded. "A seemingly insignificant, yet important move on the chessboard towards the Grand Plan, save that bumbling fool losing the Queen. I need her to sign the treaty, then die a martyrs death."

Siri didn't bother inquiring why, if he saw fit, he'd tell her. He usually left her to her own devices to figure out his motives and plans beyond what was told. "How could he lose a Queen? Surely he wasn't stupid enough to leave her unguarded?"

"Jedi," spat Sidious, "The Chancellor went around the senate to get them involved."

Siri tilted her head in thought, a slow smile spreading across her face. "If he's called out on that, it could put his position at risk."

"I have something... else in mind for removing Valorum," said Sidious, "Focus on your mission and be ready to leave."

"It will be done. How do we plan to track her?"

"I'll engineer a transmission to be sent to her ship after the registry is checked for its identification," said Sidious, "Be ready with a trace..."

Less then a day later, they had their answer, and were making their way towards the Scimitar. "I can't say I've ever had the displeasure of going to Tatooine."

Sidious turned his head towards her. "It is a desert planet, a worthless ball of sand the Hutts rule over. Scarcely populated with slaves, hostile natives, and farmers."

Siri nodded. "Only a few settlements I assume, it shouldn't take long to find the queen."

"Move against the Jedi first, you will then have no difficulty in taking the Queen to Naboo to sign the treaty," said Sidious.

Siri resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Obviously she killed the Jedi first. "As you will, Master."

There was... something in the cruel smile Sidious had on his face that sent a warning twinge off in her head. "These specific Jedi will be a true test for you, my young blue-eyed apprentice, perhaps you may even prove yourself worthy of earning your Sith name if you succeed."

Siri showed no reaction, but there were not-so-subtle implications in what he was saying. "As you say."

"Fail in this, my apprentice, and you will wish you had never been born," said Sidious in a warning tone, "I have been building for this opportunity, both with the Grand Plan, and with you, for some time. That both your test and this mission come up at once is... a boon. Do not fail me."

Sidious walked with her all the way to the Scimitar, and Siri felt his eyes on her long after she had closed the ramp and took the ship into the air. If this was a test to be worthy of her Sith name, then it was a Sacrifice. She made a brief, mental list of her former friends in the temple, wondering who it would be that she was to kill this time. Garen had been the last...

There was a slight twang of grief, but she smothered it almost instantly. She'd do her duty as a Sith Apprentice and kill whoever it was. Garen had hardly been the last Jedi she had killed since that failed Sacrifice...

"So, where are we off to this time?"

Siri didn't jump, she did _not_! She turned to see Zannah's gatekeeper leaning over her shoulder. "Who let you out of your hole?"

"Come now Siri darling," said Zannah with a pout, "Surely you're still not mad about me springing up during your play time with your boyfriend? I was cheering you on! You've come such a long way since you were a prudish young girl."

Siri scowled. "I'm going to seal your Holocron shut with sorcery if you keep it up."

Zannah grinned. "You'll try, but I'm still the better sorceress, even as a Holocron."

"For now," admitted Siri.

"For a loooooong while," drawled Zannah, "Honestly, you're what, twenty-three? Wait another decade or two before you even entertain the thought of being close to my equal."

"Yeah yeah yeah, you're a self-proclaimed Sorceress goddess, I know," mocked Siri, "We should all bow and grovel before you."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that," purred Zannah.

Siri shifted focus. "Ever been to Tatooine?"

"It's a slave infested rat hole," said Zannah before whining, "Double-suns makes it hot as hell. Got a wicked sunburn the first time I went there, had sand in my robes for weeks!"

"Lovely," muttered Siri.

"Why are we heading there?" questioned Zannah.

"Chasing some queen down," said Siri, shrugging, "Sidious wants her to sign a treaty and be a martyr."

"Queen of what planet?" asked Zannah.

"Naboo."

"Hmm," hummed Zannah, "I wonder..."

Siri rolled her eyes. "Don't tease me, out with it."

Zannah shook her head. "I'm not up-to-date with galactic politics. I can guess what his purpose is in doing this, but I'll wait and see."

"Politics," said Siri with distaste, "Is such a shit-show. I've got enough dirt to bury half the senate if I really wanted to."

Zannah snickered. "Only half?"

"Well, Sidious doesn't give me that much free time to go digging," said Siri slyly, "Its not hard to find if you go snooping. Honestly, I found a band of senators involved in setting up a new a slave ring a little while ago. I don't know why I'm surprised anymore. When I take over and make it an Empire, the senate is the first thing to go, and the Galaxy will cheer me on when I show them just who leads them. I'll be the far better choice..."

"The only choice," she said in a hushed, craving voice.

Zannah grinned. "Its so close Siri, the cumulation of the Grand Plan. I'll finally get to see the Jedi fall, and a Sith Empire rise. I'm **_jealous_** that you'll actually get to live that reality. Though... not to be a downer, but, it's probably going to be Sidious's empire for awhile, I doubt you'll be ready to challenge him before the time has come."

Siri groaned. "Major downer Zannah."

Zannah draped a holographic arm over her shoulder. "Ah don't worry, you'll get your chance."

Siri shrugged. "I'll manage. I suppose the chance to kill Jedi will make me feel better after you've so rudely ruined my mood."

Zannah hummed. "Killing Jedi does do wonders for one's mood. How many?"

"Sidious didn't say," said Siri.

"Eh, just more lightsabers to throw in that cell," said Zannah, "Don't know why you don't make a trophy case of your kills instead of dumping them in that room."

"The Jedi are the past," said Siri dismissively, "And that cell is where I leave mine..."

* * *

Siri took one step out into the heat of the desert world before turning right around. "Kriff that, where's the probe droids?"

She was not melting to death scouring aimlessly when she had perfectly good droids to do that for her. She didn't know which settlement to check, the droids would do that for her. She signaled them, and watched as the black sphere like machines flew out. They were programmed to recognize Jedi by their lightsabers, robes, actions with the Force, how they interacted with people, and even had a collection of their faces programmed in. She had also taken the time to apply facial recognition for one Queen Amidala into them, as well as her current guard captain. She watched them go before pulling up her datapad again.

"Padme Amidala huh?" murmured Siri, scrolling down the datapad, "Public name, actual last name Naberre. Has a tendency to go incognito as a handmaiden. Hmm... I'll have to refrain from killing them until I can identify which one is actually the queen, no doubt she has a decoy in her place at the moment."

She studied more of the young woman... girl's history. Honestly, queen at fourteen? She had to look up Naboo's politics sometime, because that was weird. She gave her a brief pass, decided she liked the girl's policies since taking the throne, and her public stance before doing so. Siri would give her a quick death then, when the time came, rather than slow and painful one. She turned her focus to Naboo itself, and to the Trade Federation, trying to figure why this was important to Sidious's plans. The blockade was in protest to some taxation law over trade routes. It was all straightforward at first glance, but nothing ever truly was with Sidious. She knew Sidious had a hand in the laws, as well as the Eriadu Trade Summit where he had most of Gunray's remaining rivals eliminated.

Sidious had set this up, so the question was: What benefit did it serve the Sith?

She pondered that for awhile, before deciding she'd have to wait and see. She switched her research to Tatooine, figuring her coordinates on the planet and then taking inventory of the surrounding settlements and news. Apparently Jabba the Hutt was in for an upcoming race, the Boonta Eve Classic. Podracing eh? She had seen a race on Malastare once. Fast, dangerous, and filled with death and explosions. Her kind of entertainment. If she couldn't watch it, she figured she'd record it. There was nothing quite like watching people die for a stupidly dangerous sport. Better than slave gladiator arenas to be sure, Sidious sent her to those a few times to check for Force Sensitives or Jedi that might have been caught. He enjoyed buying and toying with them when the chance rose, or threw her a bone and let her have them.

Siri settled into a light meditation as the night dragged on, preparing herself to face Jedi, drawing her emotions to her. The Force whispered dark murmurs into her ear. Of power and promise, of opportunity, to truly claim the Dark Side for her own if she but had the will to reach out and take it. Sever the past, and be free to claim the future. Brief flashes of green and blue lightsabers clashing with her own filled her view, but were blurry. Visions had never been her strong suite, they were either rare, blurry, or came in a flash torrent that she could hardly make sense of. Zannah said there were rituals to force visions, but she hadn't revealed that to her yet...

She paused, eyebrows furrowed, when a bright light disrupted her meditation. She passed her senses over the landscape and felt...

She flinched and broke out of her meditation, feeling an immense whiplash. What in the... it was like she had just stared into a sun through the Force. She hissed a bit under her breath, blinking a few times. What had that been? For a moment... she had felt something, someone, with immense power, immense potential. She frowned a little, was this the Jedi? No... the brief flash she had was... untrained, unfocused. There was a... stirring in the Force, a note of anticipation, a ripple in the waters, that set Siri on edge. There was more going on here then hunting down a missing queen and Jedi. That was for sure.

She made a mental note to come back to Tatooine after she was done with this mission if she couldn't figure it out during her time here now. That kind of power demanded investigation. She rose to her feet and made for her bunk, determined to get some sleep with what little of the night remained, and as she laid in bed, dozing, the Force whispered quietly to her one final warning:

That her life was about to change drastically, one way or another...

* * *

Siri waited impatiently as her probe droids fed her back information. No concrete sightings yet, though there were three potential matches in Mos Espa. Curious. Three was an odd number. Generally Jedi went out either alone, or in pairs. She flicked through the information. She didn't recognize the name Aayla Secura, but the next Jedi on the list made her eyebrows shoot up and a grin stretch across her face.

"Quinlan Vos," she purred with surprised delight, flipping past the notification of the third jedi without a glance or a care, "Well well well, the Kiffar himself is here, this should be entertaining. He was always a blast to spar with."

Not to mention she hadn't been as close to him as she had with Garen. She didn't see a problem killing him. This was hardly a test.

She did briefly note that the droids saw no interaction between the first two, and the third Jedi, perhaps there were two separate missions on Tatooine then? Or maybe they were splitting up to keep attention away. Taking a queen to this Hutt infested wasteland was a questionable move. She'd be a valuable hostage. Hmm... she'd stay her hand for now. She ordered her droids to keep watching and try to determine if the queen was with the Jedi, or on their ship wherever it was. Killing the Jedi but scaring the queen offworld would be unfortunate after all.

It also gave her a chance to watch the Boonta Eve she quietly admitted to herself...

...and a few hours later, she settled into her bunk lazily, levitating her datapad overhead with a live feed to the podrace. She hummed to herself as she watched the racers set themselves up. "Hey Zannah, wanna watch a podrace?"

When no response came, Siri pressed out with her senses. Ah, the Holocron was off, Zannah was sleeping. Spoil sport. Oh well, her loss. Siri waited patiently for it to start, and then snickered when one of the racers stalled at the start. "Poor poor... uh whose is that listed as... Skywalker..."

The Force rippled when the name slipped through her lips, and she frowned, squinting at the live feed. She couldn't get a good shot of the racer in his pod. She checked the races registry, and came across a nine year old boy, Anakin Skywalker, a slave owned to a Toydarian named Watto. The Force was... for a lack of a better term, _excited_ about the boy. She wondered... was he what she had felt last night during her meditation? She focused the live feed on him and decided to trail him as he finally took off.

It only took her a minute to recognize that he had to be Force Sensitive. He was instinctively reacting and maneuvering around dangers that no normal human, especially a young boy. She was actually rather impressed, she wasn't sure most initiates his age, or even padawans not nearing their senior years, could handle what he was doing. Siri rubbed her chin in thought, toying with her options. If he was truly what she had felt last night... well... she was to young to consider him as her own potential apprentice. Perhaps if she left him here and came back in a decade or two it might be an option, but... that left a dangerous risk of Sidious finding him. And that potential... her Master would kill her and take the boy in a heartbeat.

Siri continued to watch the race, growing steadily impressed with how the boy reacted under pressure. When his pod disconnected from one of its engines and the cockpit started spinning wildly, he merely reached out with a magnet and drew the cord back to him, reconnecting it. Not hesitating to challenge the lead racer. When he was forced off the racecourse and used it to take the lead. When his pod started smoking and he lost the lead, but quickly fixed it and took off again. And finally, when he tangoed with a pod much bigger than his own, locking them together, and then pulling away in such a manner his opponents pod fell apart, giving him the win.

Siri grinned to herself. "Nice moves little Skywalker."

He'd make a fine apprentice in a few decades; she severely doubted she'd find anyone else with the kind of potential she felt from him. She licked her lips slowly in anticipation; she couldn't wait to mold that power and make it her own. Still, that was in the future, she had a mission to do now. She got up from her bunk and flicked the race off, getting her speeder off the ship and ready. She leaned on it, waiting for any further communication from her probe droids. Her droid pinged some time later, following the third Jedi, who apparently had the queen, locating her ship, they were bringing parts to it. Siri tensed, she was on a timetable then. She had to get to the ship before it took off and...

The third Jedi was apparently heading back, away from the ship?

Siri frowned and resettled. They wouldn't abandon their Jedi here. She was relatively curious who it was, since it appeared Vos wasn't her target's guardian. She didn't waste time however scrolling back through her probe droids feed. Some time later, the droid pinged, the Jedi was returning to the queen's ship, with a boy in tow.

And Siri's eyes went wide. "Kriff!"

She leaped on her speeder and took off. Stupid, the Jedi would have had to have been blind not to detect Skywalker's presence. They were going to take him to the Temple! Forget Sidious, if the Jedi got the boy...

Well, she had to nip that in the bud. He was no longer a potential apprentice, just a future threat. Kill the boy first, then the Jedi, then capture the Queen.

She took off across the desert, homing in on the location her probe droid fed to her, and squinted, spotting two figures making for a silvery shape in the distance. She pitied the boy briefly, but she had to kill him. If the Jedi got him, he'd be a threat. If Sidious got him... well... she wouldn't wish his training on anyone. Siri would be tossed aside, and Skywalker would know hell unlike anything he had ever experienced, even as a slave.

It was better for him, to die now; if he knew what awaited him, he'd thank her for the mercy killing.

She aimed her speeder directly at him as she closed the distance, gunning the engine. Both the boy and the Jedi turned. Siri leaped off her speeder...

And cursed when Anakin dodged to the side. She rushed him, igniting one end of her lightsaber, and brought it down, only for a green one to intercept hers, a somewhat familiar voice yelling, "Go! Tell them to take off."

Siri growled under her breath as the boy broke away, and shifted her focus to the Jedi, pulling her lightsaber back and readying herself to...

Her eyes went wide, she knew this Jedi, and it was like a jolt through her system. "Qui-Gon Jinn?"

The man in question had readied himself, entering an Ataru opening stance, but paused, eyebrows furrowed. "That voice..."

He threw a hand forward suddenly, and in that moment of Siri's guard being down, did what Dooku had never managed to do in all their meetings thus far. Rather than using the Force to throw her back, he sent the energy at her hood, blowing it backwards and off her face... and then stared at her silently. It took only a moment for recognition to flare through his face, and something flashed through his eyes, shock and surprise, turning into regret and grief.

"Siri Tachi."

She lunged at him, furious that she had been revealed, Jinn had to die. He backpedaled and spun, catching her blow and redirecting it to the ground before countering. She pivoted, letting his saber crash down and eat sand. She swung at his shoulder, but he ducked down and threw an elbow forward, slamming into her and throwing her back. She ungracefully flopped to the ground, eyeing the Queen's ship briefly as it took off and started flying low towards them, ramp still down. Yeah no, she wasn't letting him jump on.

She rose to her feet as Jinn turned to go, he leaped... and she yanked him back down with the Force. She rushed at him as he landed on his back, raising her lightsaber high and bringing it down. He rolled away and jumped up, lightsaber brandished and ready. She rushed forward in a flurry, lightsaber swinging down at an angle. He deflected and countered, aiming for a shoulder, she backstepped and caught the blade, shoving it off and riposting, stabbing for his chest. He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the stab...

"Master!" came a loud cry.

And Siri completely froze up for a moment, her eyes going wide, a shock ripped through her. T-hat voice...

She took a step back and glanced upward, at a young man in a Jedi tunic grabbing part of the ramp and leaning downward, hand extended. That red hair... those stormcloud gray-blue eyes... that... that was...

Then her sight was blocked as Qui-Gon leaped up and the young man caught him, pulling him up and into the ship. He took inventory of his master, and then his eyes flashed downward to Siri... and went wide with shock and surprise. He instantly recognized her, not even a moment of hesitation.

For the first time in close to a decade, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Siri Tachi locked eyes.

And then the ship's ramp closed and took off.

Siri stood there silently, watching it go, tasting the Force, the shock, the surprise...

The happiness...

Obi-Wan had felt happy to see her, then the confusion had been building, then they were to far away to get a read on.

Siri struggled with herself for a very long moment before she whispered his name softly, "Obi-Wan..."

Slowly, she pulled her hood back up and made her way for her crashed speeder, inspecting it for damage. She righted it, climbed aboard, and took off back to her own ship in complete silence, her mind a whirlwind of emotions she had thought she put behind her years ago...

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi stood on the closed ramp to the Queen's starship silently, his head still tilted downward at an angle towards where he had seen...

"Siri," he whispered softly.

Siri Tachi...

She was alive, Siri was _**alive**_! And how she had grown. Taller, more developed, her skin had paled a bit from what he had seen at that height. Her hair longer, and her blue eyes...

They had been cold, deathly cold, at least until their eyes met and then... there was something in them. Warring within. He'd have to have been Force deaf to not have felt that sudden burst of conflicting emotions rip from her. He registered, slowly, that she had been dressed in dark robes, that she had been trying to kill his master, and that he had felt the Dark Side so deeply from her...

Then his legs buckled.

Qui-Gon caught him. "Shh Obi-Wan, shh."

"That was Siri," he rasped out.

"I know padawan mine," said Qui-Gon softly, "I know."

"She's alive."

"I know," said Qui-Gon, sighing, "I think... that we've discovered who the 'Iris' Dooku has been hunting is."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes tightly, pained. If that was true... if Siri was Iris...

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Very creative Siri, spelling your name backwards, Force, I should have recognized that."

Qui-Gon didn't comment.

Obi-Wan struggled to control his emotions. Siri was Iris, the young Jedi Padawan whose memory he had cherished and held onto had been turned into a cold blooded killer. Had killed civilians, killed Jedi... killed _Garen_. Oh Siri...

Grief threatened to overwhelm him. That's why Siri had sobbed over killing him, she had been forced to kill a friend...

"We left her to this," rasped Obi-Wan, opening his eyes, "We didn't investigate her supposed death, just assumed what we had felt was what happened, we left her to be turned... turned into _this_."

A new voice, young, timid, and afraid spoke up, "Y-you know who that was? W-why she tried to kill me?"

Obi-Wan turned, spotting the young sand-dusted boy he had briefly ran past earlier, and was horrified. "She tried to kill you?"

"She went for him first," said Qui-Gon softly, "Though I suspect she was here for the Queen.

Obi-Wan parted from Qui-Gon and leaned against the bulkhead, eyes closing again, struggling with himself. Siri was a childkiller now too?

"Who was she?" asked the boy.

"Anakin...," said Qui-Gon slowly, "That was... an old friend we thought had died years ago."

"Friend?" asked Anakin, incredulous.

Obi-Wan had a brief moment of being angry at the boy, but forced it under control. Anakin didn't know better.

"She was a former Jedi we thought had been killed on a mission years ago," said Qui-Gon.

"What...? She was a Jedi? But Jedi don't...," began Anakin.

Obi-Wan turned his head and opened his eyes, watching Qui-Gon move to kneel down in front of Anakin. "She fell to the Dark Side, Anakin."

"What does that mean?"

"It means she... went bad I suppose is how I'd say it," explained Qui-Gon, "She became fallen, a Dark Jedi, and when a Jedi goes dark, they are capable of truly terrible things."

"I didn't think Jedi could go bad," murmured Anakin before squinting, "You're upset about it, and he's _really_ upset about it."

Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "This is my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He and Siri... knew eachother well. Her supposed death had grieved him, badly. In some ways, I imagine this is worse than her being dead."

Obi-Wan's lips thinned, but he didn't respond.

Anakin frowned, turning to Obi-Wan. "If you knew her, do you know why she would have went bad?"

Obi-Wan sighed softly, thinking back to that fateful mission. "We... knew she had fallen, before she supossedly died. I believe it was because her Jedi Master, Adi Gallia, had been murdered... oh Force Qui-Gon, we're going to have to tell the Council we lied."

Qui-Gon nodded, an air of resignation about him. "Yes, we will."

"You lied?" asked Anakin, confused.

"When a Jedi falls to the Dark Side," said Obi-Wan, "Their reputation is... destroyed really, dragged through the mud. I thought she was dead, I wanted her remembered fondly, not with disdain. So we lied, and only said she had died."

Anakin, surprisingly seemed to accept that. "Okay, that makes sense. I've lied to protect my friends before."

Obi-Wan let a wry smile cross his lips. "Don't let the Council hear you say that young one."

Anakin grinned sheepishly before it went away. "So she went bad because someone she cared about died... but how'd she end up like _this_ then? It can't happen just like that, can it?"

Obi-Wan looked away, and Qui-Gon took pity on him. "One of our more esteemed Jedi Masters has been chasing a Dark Jedi for some time now, who went by the name of Iris. She had... tried to turn away from this life once, but the one helping her, a retired Jedi named Siolo Ur Manka, died, and she was dragged back into the dark. She had revealed to Ur Manka, and he to the Jedi, that she had been abducted, tortured, and bent to the will of a Dark Master."

 _Something_ flickered across Anakin's face. "She's a slave?"

Qui-Gon paused to consider it. "In a manner of speaking, I suppose that would be true. A slave to her Master, and a slave to the Dark Side."

Obi-Wan was... slightly perplexed, to see Anakin's remaining fear, confusion, and anxiety bleed away into an air of perfect understanding about him. "Masters make their slaves do awful things."

Qui-Gon studied him for a moment. "The Dark Side is still a choice Anakin, and choices have consequences. Come, I think we should get you situated, and my Padawan should meditate and get himself under control before we reach Coruscant."

Obi-Wan smiled a little at the reprimand, his emotions were bleeding all over the place after all. "Of course Master."

Anakin's eyes flickered uneasily. "Master?"

"For the Jedi, A master is a rank, a teacher..." explained Qui-Gon as he led the boy out of the room.

Obi-Wan slowly made his way towards his assigned quarters, and settled into a meditative position on the floor. He let out a shaky breath, and replayed that brief moment in his mind again. Seeing Siri for the first time in close to a decade, feeling all those emotions from her...

The conflict.

He wondered, if he could finish what Master Ur Manka had began. If she was truly lost, she wouldn't have felt anything towards him, and wasn't that surprising to feel that she still did. Positively giddy that it had survived through the darkness she had lived through. But... she was more lost now than she had been back then, far more lost. He didn't know if he could pull her from the Dark Side, and even if he could, Qui-Gon was right...

Choices had consequences, even if her mysterious Dark Master had forced it upon her; There would be a reckoning for Siri, one way or another...

That was a problem for later though. They had a few days till Coruscant, then they had to meet with the Council. Then there was still the mission, they had to protect the Queen, and chances were that Siri would still be after her. Before Siri could be helped, if she could at all, they had to capture her first...


	21. Dark Revelations

"You've returned."

Siri swallowed down her fear and knelt on the ground in the middle of the Coruscant Compound's meditation chamber. "Yes, Master."

"You failed in your missions," said Sidious slowly, dangerously, "I watched the Queen and her escort land earlier today."

She can already feel him drawing on the Dark Side, see the beginnings of sparks in his hands. "It's a bit difficult to complete a mission when there's double the Jedi you expect to encounter!"

Sidious paused. "Explain."

Siri carefully, so carefully, danced around her failure and slip ups, pulling out her datapad of her probe droid readouts and handing them to Sidious. "There were three Jedi there, Quinlan Vos, Aayla Secura, and Qui-Gon Jinn. Where Jinn goes, Kenobi follows, so a fourth one at an unknown location."

She had stupidly not even looked at the third Jedi's identity from the readout, but like hell was she going to admit that to Sidious. "I did not know if the pairs of Jedi were working together, or apart, or who had the queen, or where the ship was. I am confidant of my skill, but taking four Jedi at once is foolish, especially if it were to scare off the queen into hiding or offplanet. I bid my time until the Probe droids narrowed it down and then immediately took off after Jinn. We fought, but he escaped, leaping onto the ships ramp as it took off."

Sidious stared at her silently, molten eyes narrowing. "You are hiding something, _apprentice_."

She tensed a bit, she could not, would not, say it was her hesitation that let Qui-Gon get away, so she went without something else that, while it would anger him, wouldn't be the same, "The Jedi... know my identity now."

Sidious frowned briefly before folding his hands back into his robes. "I've anticipated the possibility ever since we began leading Dooku around by his nose. It is of no true consequence."

Sidious slowly began to circle her. "You are fortunate I believe this situation is still salvageable. I have come up with another use of the Queen, and I doubt this will be your only confrontation with Master Jinn and his padawan. We will wait until they make their next move, and when they do, you are to kill them both with a priority over the Queen. Jinn must die as the final push to spurn Dooku from the Jedi Order..."

He stopped in front of her. "And Kenobi is to be your Sacrifice."

Siri locked down her emotions tightly. "I understand, my Master."

"Pray you do my blue-eyed apprentice," said Sidious thinly, "I am growing far to disgusted that you still bear those eyes eight years into your apprenticeship."

Sidious shifted focus, an irritated scowl on his face. "For the time being, I have use of you until your primary targets leave the sanctuary of the Temple and the Senate. One of my assets is being... difficult. I want you to go and remind him of his place."

"Who and where?" she asked.

"I have a laboratory and mechanical workshop secreted deep in the lower levels," said Sidious, "My chief engineer, Talesan Fry, is being rather stubborn at the moment."

Siri blanked for a moment, that name... "Tally?"

Sidious slowly smiled. "That's right, I acquired both of your services on that same mission, didn't I? I have a project I wish him to complete, but he has been dragging his feet. Perhaps you can remind your 'old friend' the price of defying me. I'll send you the coordinates, I expect him to be compliant by the time you leave."

Siri left in a minor stupor. Talesan Fry... was a name she hadn't heard or thought of since she had been abducted and forced into her own Sith Apprenticeship. Never even spared him a second thought. She was rather surprised to hear he was still alive after all this time, and apparently Sidious's 'chief engineer', though it sounded it was a reluctant position. She recalled, vaguely, that he had been a child genius. Sidious, she supposed, would have cultivated and enslaved that kind of potential tool, bending it to his will.

She can't help but wonder just what kind of project Sidious has him working on, she supposed she'd see soon enough...

* * *

"...and it was on my way back to the Queen's ship," said Qui-Gon Jinn, "That I was ambushed."

If Obi-Wan were in a better mood, he might have been entertained by the collective headache the Council seemed to get after Qui-Gon detailed betting their entire chance to get offplanet on a podrace. He really wasn't, especially with what came next.

"Ambushed, you say?" inquired Yoda.

"The Hutts, or the Trade Federation?" inquired Master Windu.

Qui-Gon took a breath in, and slowly let it out. "Neither. It was Iris, though I assume she was after the Queen.."

The Council's attention was instant, and sharp; Ki-Adi-Mundi leaned forward. "The Dark Jedi is involved in the blockade?"

"It would appear so," said Qui-Gon, folding his hands into his robes, "During my battle with the fallen padawan, I managed to dislodge her hood, and identify her."

"Hmph, jealous, Dooku will be," said Yoda with false lightness, staring at Qui-Gon, "Know Iris, did you, when Jedi she was?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed softly. "Yes, but... my padawan knew her better."

Obi-Wan stepped forward. "Iris is Siri Tachi."

The ripple of shock, surprise, and disbelief from the council is frankly surprising to Obi-Wan.

"Master Gallia's padawan?" exclaimed Even Piell, "Surely you are mistaken."

Other masters clamored agreement, but Obi-Wan merely shook his head.

"No, it was her," said Obi-Wan softly, "I saw her face, as did my Master."

"This would have broken Adi's heart were she still alive," mused Plo Koon with an air of sad resignation.

Yoda's ears were flickering in rapid motions, eyes narrowed at Obi-Wan, and then Qui-Gon. "Something more to say on this, feel that I do."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Yes. We were not... entirely truthful, on that mission report eight years ago."

Mace Windu's reaction was instant and hard. "You lied to the Council? Did you know she lived?"

"No, not on that," said Obi-Wan, "Its... I asked my master to lie, out of respect for Siri. We had felt her fall to the Dark Side after her Master had been killed, shortly before we thought she was killed. I didn't want her name and reputation spited and ruined when she had already suffered and supposedly died."

Windu's scowl didn't budge. "Yet had you, that might have stuck out in our searches of potential padawans that 'Iris' could have been."

"I know," said Obi-Wan, with regret, "Believe me, I've thought of every failing that occurred in and from that mission and our choices after it ever since I saw Siri."

"Mmm," sounded out Master Yaddle, "With this information, what would the Council have done, hmm? Iris or Padawan Tachi, her identity, change the circumstances does not."

Obi-Wan would have gotten involved. Even if he had to leave the Order to chase her down and bring her back, he would have. He doesn't say this outloud, though, judging by the quick look Qui-Gon sent him, he felt the general gist of it. It's nothing Qui-Gon hadn't done himself, when going after Tahl's killer. If Obi-Wan was being honest, Qui-Gon probably would have helped him go after her.

"It does change something though," said Obi-Wan, "Siri is... conflicted, I felt it."

"Conflicted, you say?" said Yoda with interest.

"Not conflicted enough," said Saesee Tinn firmly, "When we have her suspected in the murder of many a Jedi, civilian, and Service Corp member."

There is a flash of pain through Obi-Wan's heart at that, he does his best to keep his expression schooled. "The way of the Jedi is compassion and understanding. She was tortured into this way of life. If we can capture her, and keep her away from her dark master, from his influence and control, I believe we can pull her free."

Master Windu didn't seem impressed with the notion. "There was a chance for her years ago to do this. Perhaps then something could have been done for her, and saw her walk away into a better life. Now? In as deep of a darkness as she has fallen into? Even **_IF_ ** she could turn away from it, which no one has successfully done when they have fallen so far, she is complicit in enough murders to warrant the death penalty many times over in the Republic."

"Force Sensitives fall under the jurisdiction of the Jedi Order," pointed out Obi-Wan, earning a deeper scowl from Master Windu.

"Are your thoughts on this matter clear, Padawan Kenobi?" asked Master Piell, "I feel an unusual amount of desire to safeguard the fallen padawan and help her."

"Is it not the way of the Jedi to help those in need?" inquired Obi-Wan, falling into his master's pose, earning an air of amusement and pride down the bond from him, "And she needs our help. She is lost, so very lost, she needs our help finding her way back."

"Hrmph," said Yoda, pointing his stick at Obi-Wan, "Fool me, you do not."

Obi-Wan didn't reply.

Yoda chewed on his stick for a moment as the Council waited for him to speak, "Believe you do, that save Padawan Tachi, you can?"

"I do," said Obi-Wan, thinking of that whirlwind of emotions from her, that speck of light, and perhaps, even _love_. He wants to say, that he thinks he might be the last one who can help her back. But he doubts the Council would react well to an open admission of attachment, especially after eight years of her being assumed dead, and discovered to be a darksider.

Yoda closed his eyes, reaching out into the Force, asking it for guidance. Not that Obi-Wan himself hadn't done so during his meditations, but the Force as a whole had been murky for a long time now, and the best he could truly do at the moment was follow his gut, and his heart. So he watched Yoda, and he hoped, he prayed, that the Grandmaster would allow the attempt.

Finally, Yoda opened his eyes, troubled. "Hmm... feel I do that succeed you may..."

Obi-Wan felt relief...

"Yet feel I do, that fail, you may as well," said Yoda, "And if fail you do, far worse will things become."

Obi-Wan frowned. "Worse?"

"Understand it, I do not," admitted Yoda, "But if kill you, she does, dire will things become, adamant the Force is on this."

Obi-Wan is not the only one who looked a bit confused on that statement. Why would her killing him over any other Jedi or person she's killed matter that much? He has the sensation that there is more going on than he is aware of. It leaves him distinctly uncomfortable to be walking into this particular confrontation without all the necessary facts.

"Perhaps if more Jedi are sent...," began Plo Koon.

Ki-Adi-Mundi shook his head. "If more are sent into this matter than the two of them, I doubt she will return to confront them."

MAster Windu still looked rather irritated by the whole thing, but turned his head towards Qui-Gon. "Do you believe the two of you could subdue her and return her to the temple? She is known to be dangerous, ruthless."

"I am confident of our skills," said Qui-Gon firmly, "Though, if Master Dooku could be contacted to give any details he noted about her preferred style and abilities, it would be appreciated. I didn't particularly note any favored form during our brief confrontation."

"Mmm, silent Master Dooku has run, last few months," said Master Yoda, "Tracking her movements, through the underworld he has been. Contact him we cannot until contact us, he does."

Yoda sighed and then stared hard at the pair. "Agree with you the Council does," typical of him really to speak for the entire council, especially when Master Windu especially does not agree, but Obi-Wan isn't complaining, "A chance, you will be given, to bring our fallen Padawan home. The last chance, will this be."

Obi-Wan bowed to the Council. "It will be done."

Obi-Wan is more than aware he's getting of lightly for lying to the Council, that Yaddle and Yoda words and actions have silenced the matter for the time being. He supposes really, they are waiting and seeing what comes of this attempt. Obi-Wan is more than ready to make himself scarce and await Queen Amidala's next move, turning to go...

"Master Qui-Gon, more to say have you?"

Qui-Gon smiled a little before shifting into a neutral stance. "With your permission my master, I have encountered a vergence in the Force."

Oh, right, over twenty thousand midichlorians in the boy. Obi-Wan had forgotten about that in the middle of discovering Siri to be alive. Well, judging by how Qui-Gon was already steeling himself, Obi-Wan thought he better brace himself to be here for awhile...

* * *

Looks can be deceiving.

Its a thing Siri already knew well, yet somehow, a non-descript little warehouse with an elevator going below the surface of the area leading into a sprawling underground facility was... a bit surprising to her. Most of the guards don't even pay attention to her, they take one look at her robes and get out of her way. She's fine with that. She can practically smell Sidious's presence about them, the Dark Side coiling around their minds, dominating and bending them to his will. Its a skill she still needs to practice more of.

There are multiple sections of the building: A science department. A research department. An engineering department, ect... every little thing Sidious can get his grubby fingers into. She heads for engineering, and raises an eyebrow when she enters.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know it's your baby Raith, I don't particularly care, they tasked me with figuring out how to make it a reality, so you can keep yer trap shut."

Even with the age, now eighteen instead of ten, Siri can still see much of Tally in the young man he's become. Shortly trimmed red hair, a bit deeper than Obi-Wan's, with vivid green eyes. His face describes his interaction with most people: bored of them. He was in a black buttoned coat and pants with gloves on, spectacles resting firmly on his nose. His eyes are narrowed, glaring at a hologram of a middle aged man Siri doesn't recognize.

"Perhaps if you listened," countered the man in question, "You wouldn't be so far behind on your due date. Our benefactors wanted the rough draft of the schematics done a year ago."

"Well, if they have a problem with my genius, they can take it up with me," said Tally, thumbing his chest, "It takes time for these things."

Siri cleared her throat, making Tally turned towards her, as did the hologram. "Well, I think they just did. I bid you good day, perhaps we can discuss my theories of where the project is struggling another time."

It winked out, and Tally scrutinized her for a moment. "Well yer a new one."

Siri put a hand on her hip and pouted. "What, don't recognize me Tally?"

He froze for a moment. "How do you know that nickname?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, I guess I'll have to reintroduce myself. I'm Siri Tachi."

That got a jolt out of him. "Wait-what? Aint that... I remember you, aint you a Jedi?"

"Was," was all Siri answered to that, walking over to squint over a large drawn diagram on a white board. "What is all this mush?"

"This 'mush'," said Tally with distaste, "Is the 'Expeditionary Battle Planetoid' platform, or well, my version of it. Raith's baby, my new and improved design."

"And Raith is...?" posed Siri.

"Raith Sienar," answered Tally.

She'd have to look up who that was later if she had a chance. "Right, well, whats the purpose of this 'platform'? Space battle?"

Tally scoffed. "That's what Raith thinks it'll be for. But he's a stupid git. Sidious wants him kept in the dark on that front, since Raith is a public face in the engineering world. It's got some massive hypermatter tech issues at the moment, nothing I can't figure out since Sidious kinda crammed this crap down my throat."

"Crammed it?"

Tally's face turned dark. "Learn this shit or die was basically his motto. Raith taught me some of this garbage, and I was tested monthly early on, punished if I was found lacking."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," mused Siri before refocusing, "If this is something you could figure out, why don't you?"

Tally thumbed the designs. "Why don't you tell me?"

She stared at the schematics, eyes washing over it. The general shape was circular, its pieces drawn out. A lot of the mathematical equations went over her head, way over. Some with terms attached to them however, like 'projected power output' were more easily understood. "What the kriff does Sidious need something with that much power for? That's absolutely ridiculous. I swear you could probably…"

"Blow up a planet with it?" said Tally snidely, "Because you can. That's the point. He wants me to make him a planetkiller."

Siri just stood there for a moment, in air of disbelief around her, before scowling. "That's stupid. Why the hell would you need to blow up an entire planet? That's a ridiculous waste of resources."

"And life," said Tally, eyes narrowed at her.

Siri slowly shook her head, staring at her old acquaintance. "What a waste Tally, you have such potential use, and he wastes it by having you work on a planetkiller. I could use you so much better."

Tally has gone very still, looking a bit skittish as his eyes flicker, focusing on her clothes. "So... I'm going to just get this out of the way and say: You're dressed like he is."

Siri smiled a mirthless smile. "He conscripted us both Tally, and neither of us particularly got a choice."

Tally went silent, and Siri returned to looking at the diagram. "Kyber crystals, huh. Where would he even get that many?"

"Jedha, Illumn, Mygetto, other places," murmured Tally.

Siri frowned thoughtfully, and then it really hits her. "Oh. He can make this. He **_will_ ** make this. He's going to waste all those resources…"

Tally crossed his arms. "If I wasn't purposefully going slowly, the schematics would be finished by now, and he'd be working on construction. I don't know where he plans to get all of the materials without drawing attention, I figured he'd do it slow like. So, ten, fifteen years tops before it's ready if I get him the plans within the year."

Siri swallows, thinking of the repercussions of this. That kind of power is enticing, but its absolute madness. You can't take back blowing up planet. This destroys an empire, it doesn't help make it. Rebellions would crop up to fight this, hell, portions of an empire would probably defect or mutiny in protest. This would kill billions, potentially trillions of lives both outright and via denying bloodlines, so many potential future resources wasted. Not just people, but a planet itself as well. Perhaps multiple planets.

She sees this superweapon, and all she sees is a future threat to her empire.

Of course, she can't just destroy these plans or this facility ( _who knows what else Sidious is creating in here_ ), Sidious would have her head. Time to take a page out of his book and be… subtle, perhaps put on a nice act for the camera incase that old bastard is watching or goes back to look later. "I suppose it's out of our hands, you'll do as you're ordered, as will I."

Tally gave a start. "You can't be serious! C'mon, you were a Jedi, weren't you? You can't..."

She reaches out and grabs the back of his head, squeezing tightly, and smashes his face into a desk, she speaks aloud, and then she projects directly into his head. "I am deadly serious."

_'There are cameras watching, do you understand?'_

Tally turns his head to look at her, blood going down his nose, but nods.

"You will continue work on this project, or the next time I come here, your punishment will be far worse than a light scolding."

_'Finish the design, but sabotage it, I don't care what you do or how you do it, but sabotage this abomination.'_

"Are we clear?"

Tally nods again, and Siri smiles, releasing him. "I'm glad we have an understanding. It was nice seeing you again Tally, perhaps we'll have a chance to talk again later. Maybe when this is said and done, I can take you someplace nice as a reward."

She gave him a fake-sly smile and slipped out: It was a promise that she'd use him better than Sidious would, when she had her empire. Honestly, a kriffing planetkiller. The Ancient Sith had their superweapons, so why wouldn't Sidious go for his own? It made sense, but it was stupid. Especially since that kind of weapon could also be used against Sidious. If she had control of such a weapon, she'd be sorely tempted to blow up a planet just to kill Sidious. She sighed and shook her head, leaving the warehouse, it was night now. Best to return to the compound and wait to see if the Queen had made her move yet...

"So," a deep, dark, and rasping voice sounded out, "He let you into the facility. I did not give him permission to do so."

Siri tensed, a dire shriek of danger from the Force ripping through her. She turned to see a darkly robed figure slowly approaching, seeming to appear out of the shadows themselves. She couldn't get a read of him in the Force. She had a brief moment to see an elongated face, that of a muun's if she saw correctly...

Then she saw the molten, burning eyes blazing out from under the hood, and every sense of warning she had screamed that she was prey before a predator. "Who are you?"

The Muun studied her silently for a moment. "Sidious is playing a dangerous game. I am not blind. You are no mere tool, and I do not recall giving him permission to train an actual apprentice."

Siri reaches for her lightsaber...

The muun held out a hand, and Siri was tossed back and flattened against a nearby wall with laughable ease with the Force. "As for your question: I am Plaguies."

He smiled with complete and utter malice. "Darth Plaguies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, throwback to the premise and the other consequence of this story with Sidious getting a boy genius under his thumb to mold as he wishes: Death Star might be built a bit earlier this time around. Either end of clone wars or shortly after.
> 
> Also, Sith confrontation incoming.
> 
> Oh-shit.


	22. The Rule of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only two there are, no more, no less.

Darth Plaguies.

Pinned to the wall by the crushing power of a Dark Lord of the Sith, all Siri can do is laugh at it all. "You're... you're Sidious's master, aren't you? He took an apprentice before he killed his master."

"I am," said Plaguies, studying her reaction, "And he did. This amuses you?"

"Not in a good way, I assure you," she drawled.

Inwardly, Siri is about ready to freak out worse than she ever has before. The Force is screaming at her that she is going to die without a miracle. She'd come to far, and done to much, to die now. There is literally only one thing she can do, and for once, she prayed Sidious actually felt possessive enough of her to challenge his master. She blockades her mind as heavily as she can, and reaches out down the bond to her master for what is perhaps the only time she has ever willingly done so. She comes up against his iron shields and slams into them. She can feel his annoyance, and him attempting to brush her away. She doesn't stop, she slams into his shields again and again until he finally allows her an audience.

" _What is it Apprentice?_ " snarled Sidious down the bond.

" _DARTH PLAGUEIS_!" she all but screams, " _Is about to kill me because you didn't bother killing him before you took me on!_ "

There is a moment of silence before a hiss of rage echoes down the bond. " _He dares take what is mine?!_ "

Siri's eyes flickered to the elder Sith, taking his time in slowly approaching. " _Yeah, he's about to._ "

" _Stall_ ," ordered Sidious before cutting the connection.

"So, was Sidious always this much of an ass?" she drawled, "Because he's been a prick my entire apprenticeship, and this really isn't as surprising as it should be."

Plagueis gives her a look of bemusement. "Are you always so insolent?"

"Yeah, kinda," she answers, "I think its one of my better traits."

Plagueis scoffed. "Sidious could have at least enforced more discipline and respect in his would-be apprentice."

Plagueis finished closing the distance and narrowed his eyes at her. "I am curious, why he would defy me like this, for an insignificant specimen such as _you_."

"What can I say?" she said with a lazy smile, "I'm charming."

Plagueis backhanded her. "Mind yourself, I am not so indulging as your Master."

Siri wrinkled her nose, feeling blood trickle out of it. "I'm not sure indulgent is a word I'd use to describe Sidious. Zannah maybe, but not Sidious."

Plagueis frowned intently. " _That_ was the Holocron he gave you? He complains about sharing power, and then he gives you _that_ Holocron? I expected him to grant you the Holocron of a lesser lord, not a true Dark Lord of the Sith."

"Well, he's kind of sexist," admitted Siri, "I have the feeling he wasn't expecting much."

Plagueis scoffed. "Underestimating one half of the galaxy may be his undoing one day. I taught him better than this. I taught him everything he knows, and this treachery is how he repays me?"

Siri raised both incredulous eyebrows. "Treachery **_is_** the way of the Sith."

"Treachery, and the Rule of Two," spat Plagueis, "Is archaic. Barbaric, and to be thrown away."

Siri just _stared_ at him. Is he for real?

"We were to rule the galaxy together," ranted Plagueis, "To share in all knowledge and power, destroy the Jedi, and bring about an eternal Sith Empire."

"Do you even know your apprentice?" she asked incredulously.

"Decades more than you," he answered.

"Then you're not paying attention, or you're willfully blind," spat Siri, "If there is one thing I know and understand about Sidious, it is that he does not **_SHARE_ ** power. He was never going to rule by your side. The moment he sees his chance, he'd betray and kill you."

Plagueis... doesn't immediately respond, a dark scowl on his face. Instead he raised a hand at her and...

She was screaming. Her insides felt like they were on fire, being poked and prodded and tugged and yanked around.

"A slightly above average specimen," mused Plagueis, "Your midichlorian count isn't that impressive, so that's not what he sees in you."

"What...," she rasps, "Are you doing?!"

"Midichlorian Manipulation," explained Plagueis, "The ability to control, alter, and, obviously, manipulate, life itself."

"Sidious," she rasped, a tremor in her voice, "Didn't happen to mention that was something one could do with the Force."

"Didn't he?" mused Plagueis mockingly, "As you said, you apparently know him better than I do. Did you expect him to, _share_ , this knowledge?"

"Oh, I like you," drawled Siri, trying to withhold another scream, "Sass is good in a Sith Lord."

He raised his hand higher, and the burning in her body lessened...

...only for him to rip through her mental shields like they were butter, earning a screech of agony from Siri as he plowed into her mind, brushing aside her defenses like they weren't even there, her traps and illusions dismantled or scattered with childish ease. "Now, lets see if I cannot find understanding in Sidious's madness. Why would he risk our plans, upset our balance, over _you_?"

"Are... are you jealous?" she panted.

"Hardly," said Plagueis, starting to pick through her memories, "Disgruntled would be the worst I'd describe my state. Perplexed. Academically, this choice makes no sense."

Unlike the last time she had a Sith Lord go through her mind ( _Bane had hinted at Plagueis now that she thought about it, hadn't he?_ ) Plagueis made no pretense at being even slightly gentle. Siri didn't even think about trying to eject him from her mind, focusing in try to not let herself fall apart and keep her mind intact. Damage control, and if she was still alive later on, meditate and repair. Plagueis was methodical in his search, he went for the older memories first, trying to see what had drawn Sidious's interest in her.

She could feel his distaste at her time in the Jedi Order, and he discarded those memories carelessly. Siri couldn't help the tears of agony running down her face, as he shredded through her early life. It would take a long time to fix this... if she even could... so she instead focused on holding onto what memories that still, even as dark as she had become, were treasured. Obi-Wan, Master Gallia, Bant, Vos, Garen... her former friends in the Order... she let him rip through everything else. Finally, he came to her fall, and he studied it, examining the memory from every angle, and to her surprise, he re-ignited it.

The memory would forever be burned into her mind, but, memories withered with age, lost some of their focus. In an instant, that degradation was gone, it was like she had fallen yesterday, he restored the memory to pristine condition, and then took another look at it. She hissed, the rise of that old fury and hate of her fall bubbling to the surface with renewed vigor. She snarled, both aloud and in her mind, focusing that hate, grabbing Plagueis, and brute force shoving him from her mind.

The Elder Sith blinked once, his only indication of surprise that she had managed to beat him back, and then he went back in, crushing her fight and continuing his research. "Hmm... your fall preludes _some_ potential, I can agree with this. Had both you and Sidious been the same age and experience when I found you, perhaps I would have entertained pitting you against one another to see who was worthy. I doubt you would have won though."

"Thanks... for the vote of confidence," she hissed.

He began to sift more carefully through her memories now, focusing on what Sidious taught her, how she learned, what he had her do. "Did he learn nothing from how I taught him? He desires you as his apprentice, yet hardly gives you enough to function as one. He makes no sense."

"Like I said... doesn't share," she rasped.

His hand was suddenly on her throat when he found her time with Siolo Ur Manka. "You almost _returned_?"

He squeezed tightly. "He should have eliminated you then and there. He did not punish you nearly enough, so allow me in his stead."

Siri's world turned red and she howled as her insides _burned_ and...

Her pain shifted as a familiar shock of Force Lightning washed over her. Plagueis dropped her to the ground as he shifted to shield himself, raising a hand to catch and negate the energy. "Sidious."

Siri blearily raised her head, blinking to try to get rid of the blurring, sighting her Master's dark form approaching, trembling in pure _rage_. "You should not have touched what is _mine_ , Plagueis."

"Is this a game to you, Sidious?" snarled Plagueis.

"Yes, yes it is," said Sideous with a hunger that could not be misplaced, for his Master's death, "A game you lost the very day you chose to train me to rule by your side, or rather, under your thumb. You were my teacher, yes, and for that I may be grateful, but my Master? Never."

Siri let out a small, weak chuckle. "T-told you."

Sidious scowled down at her. "Get up apprentice, you look pathetic."

"C-cant...," she rasped, "He kinda ripped... through my shields... and my body."

Force, she could hardly feel any part of herself at the moment.

He gripped her with the Force and tossed her backwards away from the confrontation. She landed hard against a wall and winced.

"I will be most displeased," said Sidious dangerously, "If you wasted the last eight years of my time by permanently marring my apprentice."

Nice to know he cared. Pah...

"I am far more displeased," countered Plagueis, "That you wasted your entire apprenticeship, every grain of knowledge and gift of power I gave to you, with every intention of betraying me. We could have ruled forever, instead, you will die, and be forgotten as nothing."

There was something savage on Sidious's face. "Funny, I was about to say something similar to _you_."

Lightning exploaded from Sidious's hands; Plagueis raised a hand and ripped a piece of the street up to block it, throwing it at Sidious who leaped over it. Siri watched, wondering if she had gone loony, as they ripped apart the street and lobbed pieces at eachother, levitating them and leaping from one piece to another as they launched lightning, gusts of dark energy, and threw eachother with the Force. They weren't even fighting on the street anymore. The Force itself was a tidal wave of back and forth through the air, it took her a moment to realize, in her damaged state, that the two Sith Lords were containing their battle all the while trying to kill eachother. They were yanking back the ripples and distortions such a battle would have cause; which would have brought the entire Jedi Temple down on their heads sooner rather than later.

Siri winced as a shockwave of energy rippled through the area, staring up at a blindingly bright spot. Sidious was channeling his lightning at Plagueis with an intensity Siri had never seen before. Plagueis, held out his hands and negated the attack, catching it in a swirling bright and intense maelstrom that was causing the entire area to shake. Then...

Siri screamed as the energy exploded, drenching the entire area with lightning. Sidious and Plagueis were thrown from one another, and all the levitating parts of the street crashed down. She blinked a few times, the hair on the back of her neck standing straight up. They were even, dead even, or close enough that the difference was negligible. She took a ragged breath, and tried to sit up, her entire body screaming at her. She could not just lay around while they were fighting, she'd get killed in the crossfire.

She shakily dragged herself to hide behind a piece of debris, leaning against it as the two Sith stared one another with molten intensity. She closed her eyes tightly, focusing inward on her mind. It _hurt_... it hurt so bad to even touch. She had to struggle to not black out as she began to push and prod in her head. Kriff it, she didn't have time for this, it was a do or die situation. She carefully draped the Force over every agonized and disjointed memory before, with band-aid-ripping momentum, gathered them together, closed them off and shunted them away to deal with another time. She was gasping for breath and clutching her shaking head, a mixture of black and red in her vision as she struggled to bring her mental shields back up.

_Snap-Hiss_

She glanced around the debris, sighting Plagueis igniting a lightsaber, and Sidious pulling two from his sleeves. That cheeky bastard, he never let on that he know Jar'Kai...

"So uncivilized," mused Plagueis.

"Would you prefer one of us to lose control and alert the Jedi?" inquired Sidious with a mocking undertone.

Plagueis's response was to leap, spinning through the air, an inhuman howl escaping his lips-and then Siri lost complete track of them as they _moved_. Her jaw dropped. She had never seen any Jedi move like this, so fast they were a blur of red lightsabers and black cloaks. She couldn't get a read of what style they preferred, if they had any at all, what little she could read of the fight showed a mixture of every style.

"Kriff," was all she could mutter, "I have a long way to go."

A _very_ long way to go... a true Dark Lord of the Sith was so unimaginably powerful... and they were keeping themselves in check here as to not tip off the Jedi. Even they couldn't take on the entire Temple, insanely powerful as they were. Kriff... just... kriff... she had no idea Sidious was this powerful, this skilled, it went beyond anything she had ever seen before. Forget a decade or two, she'd probably have to be fifty, sixty, before she had a real chance to beat Sidious. Hell, old as Sidious appeared to be, he might die of old age before she became strong and skilled enough to challenge him.

She ground her teeth in jealous rage. She wanted this power... she craved this power...

Sidious leaped over head, swinging down with one saber. Plaguies batted it aside and stepped backward. Sidious spun as he landed, his lightsabers digging into the street and leaving twin molten circles around him before coming up and slashing at Plaguies, who blocked both with his own. They pushed against one another, the air around them cackling with energy, the street shaking with the pressure through the Force. She watched a piece of the street levitate behind Sidious before surging at him. The apprentice broke bladelock and flipped away, Plagueis aimed a hand and released lightning of his own, Sidious turned midair and caught the Force attack with a lightsaber, landing and then thrusting out both his hands, shoving Plagueis back with the Force.

Plagueis thrust a hand forward, and Sidious cringed, dropping a lightsaber and clutching his chest. Siri could feel Plagueis trying to break through Sidious's defenses and assault him through the Force. Sidious gave a roar and unleashed lightning at Plagueis again, forcing him to drop his attack and move. Siri narrowed her eyes, studying the back and forth, feeling their emotions rising, hatred and anger boiling higher and higher. Lethalness turned into absolute viciousness, lightsaber strokes filled with rage, sparking against one another or tearing through walls, debris, and objects that they threw at one another. Their Force attacks grew less controlled, more wild and powerful, climbing in intensity.

Tremors were starting to press against their range of control, they wouldn't be able to contain it much longer. Two Lords of the Sith clashing wasn't a battle meant for anything to be held back in...

She considered her options. She could just leave, let them kill eachother or draw the Jedi in and have them overwhelmed ( _though the Sith might just flee if it came down to that_ ). But... she'd potentially lose access to either Dark Lord of the Sith's tutelage. She could interfere, though there was a very high chance she would get killed doing so. If she did try though... which way did she tip the battle?

On one hand there was Darth Plagueis. His ideology of the Sith was... interesting, and perhaps more along her liking. Not being held underfoot, power and rule being shared ( _if he was being truthful/if he would even offer her that_ ). However, he made his distaste for her clear; even if she helped to kill Sidious and then pledged herself to him, he might kill her anyway. There was also the fact that she knew next to nothing about Plagueis, he was an unknown factor.

On the other hand was Darth Sidious. She hated his guts, he pretty much ruined her life. He was cruel and savage, if but possessively fond of her depending on his mood. He withheld so much from her, and practically made her steal scraps from a dinner table for any piece of knowledge he possessed. She wanted to kill him with everything that she was, and everything that she would be. She understood him to a degree, how he operated, what would elect what kind of response or punishment from him. Perhaps most importantly for this situation however, it was a guarantee that unless she betrayed him, he would keep her alive as his apprentice. She also wasn't sure stabbing him in the back mid-duel would be satisfying enough for her, she had _dreams_ and _cravings_ of how she wanted him to suffer. Though, it might be more practical to do it this way, she might never get such a chance again to make sure Sidious died...

She closed her eyes and reached out to the Force, half-begging, half-demanding, that it give her any hint. She hissed in pain at the backlash she received. It was in pure and utter chaos, the future in such terrible, inescapable motion. The Force didn't seem to even be able to give her a proper vision, images pressed into her mind that changed between Plaguies and Sidious so fast that she couldn't tell who was doing what. The message was however clear: Whoever won here would determine the fate of the Sith, herself, and the galaxy.

She was buffeted by a pressure of energy, her hood and hair flying back as lightning ripped through the air. She refocused on the fight in time to see Plagueis block the Force attack and...

She ogled what she was seeing. She couldn't tell if Plagueis's grip on his blade was slipping/being forced back, or if Sidious was literally _bending_ his opponent's lightsaber with his lightning! Lightning refracted off the lightsaber, sparking along the street and igniting anything flammable in the area. Siri had to duck as it arced overhead, near singing her hair. She looked back up and saw a familiar bubble of energy surrounding the lightsaber and braced herself for another explosion of energy.

This time there was no containment.

An explosion ripped through the area, sending the two Sith flying from one another, debris blown from the epicenter, lightning surging in waves through the area, taking Siri to the ground crying out in agony. The Dark Side ripped and howled unrestrained from the Sith, and Siri felt the collective surprise, shock, and alarm from the Jedi Temple off in the distance. The countdown had begun until the Jedi swarmed the area, and neither Sith showed signs of caring. They rushed at one another in snarls and growls of fury, lightsabers clashing in one brutal smash after another, the Dark Side buffeting the area again and again.

Siri swallowed and then closed her eyes, struggling to come to a decision. It was do or die, she had to act. Either choose a Sith, or run...

So she made her choice, and the next time the two Sith clashed and locked lightsabers, pressing against one another's strength, she vaulted over the debris she was hiding behind and sprinted towards the fight. Little old Siri, just a mere Sith Apprentice, an insignificant spec compared to the Sith Lords fighting, whom neither was paying attention to. Who neither sensed with the massive roil of the Dark Side bombarding the area, she ignited her lightsaber...

And drove it through Darth Plagueis's unsuspecting back.

Over his shoulder, there was a look of pure surprise and disbelief on Sidious's face as both he and his master stared down at the red blade going through the muun's chest...

And then Darth Plagueis exploded in a baying howl of the Dark Side.

Siri yelped and Sidous grunted as they were thrown back in an explosion of Dark Side energy, several nearby buildings toppling at the force of it. Siri landed in a heap and groaned, her senses and motor control completely fried by the Dark Side bombardment. She laid there in a daze, staring up at nothing, until Sidious loomed overhead, staring down at her silently.

She gave him a lazy, bleary smile. "So... since I killed him, does that make me the Master now?"

Sidious scowled at her, reaching down and plucking her off the ground, throwing her over his shoulder. "I ought to be furious you interfered."

"Love you too, Sidious."

"Insolent brat," muttered Sidious, taking off in a run.

"I did choose you over him," she pointed out.

"And that loyalty is the only reason you aren't dead right now," said Sidious thinly, "Is your comlink still functional?"

She struggled to even move her hand, reaching for her belt and bringing it out and studying it. "Yeah..."

"Give it to me, I need to order the research and development facility evacuated and scrubbed, it's to near the fight to leave standing," he ordered, "The Jedi will discover it if they look deeply enough into the area.

She did so, and then closed her eyes, sighing softly with weariness...

* * *

...and came to an undetermined time later, finding herself on her bunk on the Scimitar. She blinked a few times blearily. "What in the hell..."

She made to rise before feeling something fall off her stomach. She reached out and caught it, finding a holopad with a recorded message on it. She thumbed it with a frown, and watched as Sidious's visage sprang up. " _The Queen's party left last night to return to Naboo, and my presence is required elsewhere as of the moment. You are to return to Naboo, take the travel time to recover and repair your shields. Your mission still stands. The Jedi are to die, and the Queen is to sign the treaty and then be killed._ "

She scowled. "I can't even get a kriffing day off after that karking mess?!"

Sidious's visage continued, " _When you return... we have things to discuss, my apprentice. If you are successful in your mission, then, having proven both your loyalty to me, and your commitment to the Sith Order, perhaps it will be time for you to enter my full confidence, and attain another Holocron._ "

Siri's breath hitched for a moment.

Full confidence...

Sidious's true identity...

The machinations behind the Grand Plan...

Another Holocron to fuel her growth in knowledge and power...

She smiled with a malicious edge. "The next step in my path to power."

The message continued for a little longer, and Sidious seemed almost... disgruntled to say what came next, " _You did well apprentice._ "

Then it cut out, and Siri just snickered at it. "Looked like it killed him to say that."

She pushed herself off her bunk, feeling a bit wobbly, but made for the cockpit. She prepared for liftoff, signaling the private hanger to open up, and then took to the skies. When she was out of the atmosphere, and then into space, she retreated to her bunk, and settled in to begin trying to assess and repair the damage Plagueis's did to with his invasion into her mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way one can do a battle between Sidious and Plagueis true justice, but I did what I could.


	23. To Lose and Love

"...we've sent out patrols, we already located their starship in the swamp, it wont be long my lord," said Nute Gunray, sitting comfortably and arrogantly in a chair as he addressed Sidious through hologram.

Siri watched, leaning against a nearby pillar. She disagreed with that assessment. The Queen wouldn't have returned here, to an occupied world, without some kind of plan.

Sidious appeared to agree with that thought. " _This is an unexpected move for her. It's to aggressive. Apprentice, be mindful, let them make the first move._ "

Siri tilted her head in acknowledgement, but didn't respond. The two of them stared at eachother for a moment, an air of awkwardness and uncertainty after what had happened when last they met still around them. Sidious killed the connection and vanished, leaving Siri to have to deal with the bumbling idiot for the time being. She still required him operational, so she held back on Sidious's promised punishment for the Viceroy, but she'd savor it later.

She watched as Gunray lazed about, having his subordinates bring him food and drink while he looked over reports from his droids. Siri pursed her lips, tapping her feet with both impatience and warning. The Viceroy briefly glanced at her, dismissive, before returning his attention to his food...

Siri released a bolt of lightning from her fingertips, blasting his desk clear of commodities and causing him to tip his chair backwards with a yelp. "Do not forget that you are treading on thin ice Gunray. You will give this occupation your full attention, focus, and commitment, or there will be dire consequences."

"Y-yes, of course," stammered the Viceroy fearfully, gulping nervously as he focused on his datapad.

About an hour later Gunray scowled at what he was reading. "Imbeciles! The prison camps are supposed to be locked down!"

Siri narrowed her eyes. "What of it?"

"A few of the Naboo guard have escaped out of the camps," said Gunray with placation, "Nothing our forces cannot handle. It is foolish of them to even try."

"How did they escape? Did they have outside help?"

Gunray hesitated. "We are... unsure."

Siri's lips thinned. "Then find out."

About an hour later, there was a report of a Naboo speeder found on the outskirts of the city, Gunray scowled at the message, "The Queen seeks to stir trouble. A rebellion in the city is pointless, our forces outnumber hers!"

Siri rolled her eyes and settled in as the Viceroy continued to read, command, and send communications for awhile...

"Sir!"

Gunray turned as a subordinate ran into the room, "There are reports of an army gathering in the swamps."

Siri blinked. An army...?

Gunray took an offered report, then started chuckling. "She sends primitives against us, she is desperate!"

Siri frowned for a moment. "Primitives?"

"Gungans if the report is right on their race," said Gunray with dismissive arrogance, "Swamp dwellers, they live underwater or so I am told. They don't even have blasters!"

Siri gave him a skeptical look. "I see."

She really didn't. Either his reports were wrong, because the Queen couldn't be that stupid, or... oh, well now, that made more sense. Divide and conquer. She watched with annoyance as the Gunray didn't even give the situation a serious thought, preparing to send out a large part of his forces to go conquer the army, and then rose to his feet, calling a mobile holoterminal as he began to walk for the throne room, contacting Sidious and updating him.

" _She is more foolish than I thought_ ," mused Sidious aloud, though his hood briefly flickered towards Siri, tilting slightly.

He wasn't blind nor stupid. He understood what the real game was here.

"We are sending our troops to meet this army assembling near the swamps," said Gunray as they walked, "It appears to be made up of primitives."

" _This will work to our advantage_ ," said Sidious.

And Siri agreed. The Gungans would draw the droid army away, and the Queen would lead a strike force for the Trade Federation's leadership. It would draw her out of hiding, and right into Siri's waiting hands. Not to mention saving Siri the time and effort to hunt her down.

"I have your approval to proceed then, my lord?" inquired Gunray.

" _Wipe them out_ ," said Sidious, sending a chill of dark and eager thrill down Siri's spine, " _All of them_."

Siri smiled a little in anticipation. It was a shame she wouldn't be there, to see the slaughter. Ah well, considering she could feel the Jedi's presence slowly closing in towards Theed, she wouldn't have to wait long for her own fight. A tendril of apprehension killed her mood however. Because it wasn't just any Jedi. It was Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his master. She swallowed a lump in her throat. She was going to have to fight Obi-Wan.

Was going to have to kill him...

She took her time as she trailed behind the Viceroy, trying to mentally prepare herself and dominate her conflicting emotions. She couldn't hesitate... she... she had to do this. She had to break this last tie to her past, had to enter into Sidious's confidence, had to walk deeper into this path, to kill him, to bring order to the galaxy, to create her empire, and make things the way she wanted them to be...

_Do you?_

She flinched and hissed a little under her breath. She really didn't need this right now.

_Are you really going to murder him? Murder your love?_

"A Sith does not love," she muttered under her breath as an explosion sounded off in the distance.

Gunray turned towards a holoscreen, watching as his troops engaged with a Naboo assault force. "I thought the battle was to take place far from here. This is to close."

Siri shook her head. "Deal with the assault force, I will deal with the Jedi."

She turned and left, a tremor going down her arms. It was time... yet, as she stalked down the hallway, nothing but apprehension filled her. For a moment, Garen's face appeared in her mind... then Master Gallia's, pleading for her to stop. She shook her head and banished the remnants of her past, heading for the Jedi...

Siri approached the door to the hanger bay, feeling the presence of the two Jedi, the boy, the Queen, and the guards on the other side. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let it out, struggling to shove down the conflict and bury it. Sidious's orders were clear, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had to die. There was no other way out of this conflict. She opened her eyes and depressed the door's open switch, watching as its parts split open. The mass of Jedi and guards came to a halt, wide-eyed staring at her. Save for the Jedi, they had expected her then.

"We'll handle this," said Qui-Gon confidently.

Arrogant as always Master Jinn.

"We'll take the long way then," answered… either the Queen or a Handmaiden, Siri couldn't tell.

Siri watched idly as the pair of Jedi stripped off their cloaks, dropping them on the ground behind them. Siri briefly considered not even bothering, keeping hers on as an insult. She thought of a better snub instead, taking her cloak off with the Force and levitating it away to rest on a crate, eyes mockingly on Master Jinn the entire time, daring him to comment.

He did, of course did. "Rather frivolous use of the Force, Padawan Tachi."

Siri gave him a smile that was all teeth. "Why should it be considered frivolous? The Force is ours by birthright to do with as we wish," she levitated her saberstaff off her belt infront of her, reaching out to grasp and activating it, red surging from top and bottom.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan drew theirs, but only Qui-Gon activated his.

"Siri."

Siri couldn't help but tense, Obi-Wan's voice directed at her for the first time in nearly a decade. Her eyes turned to his, and she couldn't help the swallow that ran down her throat. She took him in, drank really, far more than the brief glance she had gotten on Tatooine. A tight padawan cut for hair, a very long padawan braid, full of beads representing so many struggles and triumphs. Much of the boyish look to his face had faded away, revealing a stern and handsome young man. He wore his Jedi tunic well and strong set. His presence was a firm light in the Force, and impressively strong for someone who was only a Padawan. She was actually kind of surprised he hadn't been nominated for his trials yet, he was more than ready to be a Knight if she had to guess.

Her inner voice, was for once her own, instead of his. _Obi-Wan... oh Obi-Wan..._

"Look at you," she murmured, growing bitter, "All grown up, just about ready to become a Jedi Knight."

There is sadness in his gaze. "It's not too late for you to retake that path, Siri."

There is care in his eyes, pleading. Just like Garen's had held.

Before she had killed his Master and then murdered him. She thought of all her sins on the path she has walked, necessary steps to take, sacrifices to make, her own soul damned, in order to kill Sidious and bring peace to the galaxy. She's gone too far, and done too much to stop now. Even for him.

"It's too late for that, Obi-Wan," her voice is quiet, "Far too late."

She thrust a hand forward and sent Obi-Wan flying across the hanger bay with the Force, sliding along the floor away from Siri and death. If he was smart, he'd run, and she could use the excuse of being on the mission to capture the Queen, offering Jinn's death to pacify Sidious.

She doubted Obi-Wan would though.

Qui-Gon took that as an inclination to start the duel, charging forward and swinging downward from a high angle. She catches it with her saber, spinning out of the way and forcing his down as she swung the other end towards his neck. He ducked it and dragged his saber up, sparking along hers, aiming to take out the handle. She's not stupid nor inexperienced enough to let it happen, and pulls back, spinning her lightsaber and falling back towards the Generator Complex doors, depressing the opening switch with the Force. Not retreating, but taking them away from anyone else interfering. She had scoped out the palace earlier, the long walkways of the Generator Complex, where Qui-Gon's age and lightsaber style would be to his detriment, and to her advantage.

If it even gets to that stage.

Siri is only defending and taking obvious counters at the moment, not even dabbling in Makashi yet. She's studying Jinn's form as he 'pushes' her back. His Ataru is excellent, great sweeping blows, his body a flurry of aggressive motion. Sidious is of course better at Ataru, but he's Sidious, it's to be expected. Despite Qui-Gon's skill, there are problems with Ataru in general, moments where he is doing his spinning attacks that his blade is not in-front of his body, and if she were to truly push herself to outspeed him, she could. Or if she caught his blade and redirected it to offbalance him, or used his positioning against him, she could score a hit, or take a limb. Such as…

He is swinging low for her knees, she leaps over and plants her foot into his face, sending him staggering. She steps forward, her blade arching to tear into his chest, but Obi-Wan has finally joined the duel, his blade blocking and saving his Master's life, pushing her back. She takes a step back, finds her foot half way off the edge of the Generator Complex, and pushes off, backflipping and landing on a walkway.

Obi-Wan doesn't immediately follow, waiting for Qui-Gon to recover and rejoin him before the pair leap after her. Siri could have been nice and let them, but she's feeling a bit nasty about this whole thing; so half way across, she shoves her hand out and throws Obi-Wan back with the Force, sending him to the other side and landing hard on his back.

Which leaves Qui-Gon alone with her again.

She deactivates one end of her lightsaber, holding one hand out two fingers pointed at him, lightsaber held downward at an angle and beckons him.

Qui-Gon's eyebrows furrowed briefly at her opening stance, and she faintly heard him mutter to himself, "Soresu is an odd choice for a darksider."

She is more amused by that comment than anything else, and lets herself grin as he takes the offensive. "You'd be surprised, Master Jinn. Honestly, you should try it sometime, it would be better for you in your old age than prancing about like you're a young padawan again."

Qui-Gon doesn't rise to the bait and doesn't even acknowledge the insult, merely keeps attack with heavy and powerful swings of his lightsaber. Siri doesn't meet any of the attacks head only, and instead parries or deflects aside each attack, redirects them away, or dodges out of the way as much as she can on the small walkways. There is a thump of feet landing behind her and she detects Obi-Wan coming from the other side. Qui-Gon swings a heavy upward blow, rather than block, Siri leaps to another walkway, heat trailing close to her back from the Jedi Master's lightsaber barely missing.

The Jedi pair leap after her, but Siri takes a jump further down the walkway, placing Qui-Gon in between her and Obi-Wan as they land. She feints forward at Jinn, pulling back when he raises his lightsaber to block. She lunges then, and is rather surprised when he was already pulling down to block the stab. She gives him credit for his skill and anticipation, that would have killed lesser Jedi. Then Obi-Wan leaped over the pair, and Siri is amused by the audacity of the move. She ignites the other end of her lightsaber and stabs upward, but the padawan swats the blow away. There is a brief moment where they are both attacking at once, one swinging high and one swinging low. She turns and catches both with the ends of her saberstaff. They shift their grip and make to wrench her lightsaber from her grasp, rather than allow it, she deactivates her lightsaber and watches them stagger offbalanced. She thrusts a hand forward and they are both knocked off the walkway with a burst of the Force.

She winces a little as they hit a walkway below, her voice mocking down after them. "Owch, that's gotta hurt..."

* * *

Obi-Wan was getting rapidly tired of being tossed around as they chased Siri up and down the Power Complex. She was a blur of dark robes and raw skill, switching back and forth between wielding her lightsaber as a saberstaff or as a single blade depending if she's fighting one or both of them. Not only was she skilled at Form III both ways, she was constantly moving as well, never allowing them to team up on her for more than a few seconds before either repositioning or knocking one of them off of their current walkway. She didn't look winded at the slightest, and both he and Qui-Gon have more than their fair share of perspiration.

What's more irritating is the mocking.

"Come now Obi-Wan, weren't you right behind me in saber classes?" she teased, deflecting a blow and lashing out with a foot, booting him backwards and to the floor, "Surely you can do better."

Qui-Gon comes at her from the other side, but she kneels forward, raising the other end of her lightsaber overhead to block. She rose to her feet and spun, swinging at Qui-Gon's leg. He jumps over the attack, and Siri takes the opportunity to jump off the edge to another walkway. "Come down and play boys!"

Neither of them do, taking a moment to breath.

"What's the matter? Tired already?" she called up.

"Force Siri," he cant help but say, "You run your mouth worse than Bruck did!"

She immediately scowls up at him. "I'd appreciate you not making _that_ comparison."

"Then stop giving me a reason to!"

She sniggers in response. "Temper temper Obi-Wan, is it that time of the month?"

Obi-Wan glared down at her. Force, she was more of a taunt and a tease than she used to be.

"Don't let her get to you Padawan," advised Qui-Gon, "She's using her words as a weapon to distract and irritate you. You need to focus."

Obi-Wan nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out, lowering his voice. "We need to pin her down. Her form and mobility will let her tire us out if we can't."

"She's intentionally separating us and not giving us the chance to," commented Qui-Gon mildly, taking a moment to breath before speaking again, "She won't face either of us head on unless its one on one."

"I don't think that's wise," said Obi-Wan before going silent, "I've never seen anyone use Soresu like this, not even Master Drallig. I..."

He trailed off for a moment, unease rippling through him. "I thought we'd be able to take her together and bring her back to the temple for help, that we'd have to try to hold back. I never expected this, I should have, she's walked away from fights with Grandmaster Dooku. I...don't think either of us can win alone. Even the moments we do fight her together... she still holds us off."

Qui-Gon didn't respond, eyes starting down at Siri, who raised an eyebrow at them as if to say 'well?'.

"We're the most active Master and Apprentice pair in the temple," said Obi-Wan, trying to release his frustration into the Force, "But she's picking us apart. Where did she learn to fight like this? What kind of training..."

"Padawan," said Qui-Gon grimly, "Darksiders and their various cults are absolutely ruthless. That includes in how they train their acolytes. I'm not surprised by her strength and mobility. It's the skill I didn't expect, someone with an above Master's skill level taught her to wield Form III like that. What's more..."

He shook his head. "We shouldn't have followed her in here, this battleground favors her far more than it does us..."

"You know, I think you boys need an invitation," called up Siri.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both gave a yelp as they felt the Dark Side coil around their ankles and yank. They barely managed to hang onto the side of the walkway for dear life. Obi-Wan heard a buzzing noise and turned his head, eyes going wide to see Siri's saberstaff spinning through the air towards him. He glanced down quickly, sighting a walkway far below, and let go. He felt heat briefly pass over his head as he plummeted. His eyes and Siri's briefly met, and he saw nothing but dark amusement on her face. It was like she wasn't even treating this seriously...

He braced himself with the Force and landed hard on the walkway. He staggered a bit and cringed. If he didn't have the Force, he'd have broken both his legs. As it was, he briefly knelt, set down his lightsaber, and rubbed his knees, pushing the Force through them. He was piss all for healing, but it'd have to do. He look up to see Siri yet again going after Qui-Gon. He wasn't blind to how she was targeting his Master, but it didn't make sense to him. It would be smarter to isolate the padawan and kill him before facing the master, yet it was almost like she was intentionally avoiding him and throwing him out of harms way...

He paused when he felt a murmur of ' _Yes_ ' from the Force. But... why?

He shook his head and launched himself upward, one walkway at a time, and made to rejoin his Master...

* * *

Siri eyed the two Jedi as they rushed at her from opposing ends, a smirk on her face. She considered whether she should jump to another walkway or just throw one of them off again, they were terrible at combating Force attacks from her. If she bothered to hit them with an illusion, they'd probably fall or stumbled off a walkway to their death. She readied herself...

...and the duel briefly paused when a ripple of childlike _–awe-excitement-glee-triumph-_ crashed into the trio through the Force like a nova. They all stood motionless for that moment, and glanced upward.

"The child," murmured Siri, stretched out her senses and feeling… wait, seriously? Her voice grew incredulous, "He took out the control ship?!"

"Well Master, considering how well he listens to orders, I'd say he's already your padawan at heart," commented Obi-Wan.

Siri couldn't help but snort in amusement.

Qui-Gon briefly chuckled, though, there was added stress there now. "If I could padawan mine, I'd be pulling on your braid right now."

"Allow me," said Siri, shoving out with her hands, throwing Qui-Gon down the walkway with the Force and then lashed out with her blade. Obi-Wan caught it with his, and then his eyes went wide with disbelief and incredulousness as Siri dangerously reached overtop of the cross sabers and yanked on his Padawan braid playfully.

"So serious Obi-Wan," she mocked, pulling back, "Perhaps you should go take a trip?"

She wrenched upward with her lightsaber and then lashed out with her foot, kicking the side of his knee and sending him careening off the walkway to another one down below. She didn't pursue Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon, taking a moment to reach out and assess the area. The droid control ship was down, and she could feel the fear of Gunray/the smug triumph of the Naboo. The entire mission was rapidly going downhill outside of her duel, she had wasted too much time here.

She needed to end this soon. Her eyes briefly looked downward at a walkway leading into one of the laser gated hallways. She considered briefly whether or not she needed the forced separation to actually win, but decided it couldn't hurt. If she killed Qui-Gon before then, so be it, if not, she'd use it. She turned when Obi-Wan leaped up again, and proceeded to grip him with the Force, lifting him into the air as he struggled. She slammed him down into the walkway and then threw him back, turning to see Qui-Gon charging at him with a scowl etched into his face.

"You don't look impressed," said Siri, pouting a little, deflecting a blow and retreating along the walkway.

"You're being rather obvious with your strategy to separate us," commented Qui-Gon mildly.

"And you're not doing much to try and counter it rather than throw yourselves at me," she rebutted, voice mocking out, locking down his lightsaber with an angry screech of their blades as they melted into the walkway, "Always rushing on ahead and leaving your padawan behind, honestly, nothing's really changed between you and…"

Siri staggered as his hand came up and backhanded her across her face, and then slugged her collarbone hard, sending her careening off the walkway and landing roughly on her back on a walkway below.

"Perhaps," came Qui-Gon's voice, "You should spend less time talking and acting like a child instead of focusing on the fight."

Siri's vision turned red with rage as Qui-Gon began to leap down. She rose to her feet and aimed her a hand, lightning ripping out of it to catch Qui-Gon. The man roared in shock, surprise, and pain as Siri lifted him and threw him down the walkway with her lightning towards the laser gates, watching satisfactorily as he landed in a heap, the electricity slowly dissipating off him.

"Perhaps," she said icily, the Force shivering cold around her, "You should prefer me that way. I am far more, _unpleasant,_ when angry."

There is an air of shock and disbelief not just from Qui-Gon, but Obi-Wan as well. She briefly glances behind her, sighting Obi-Wan having leaped down to their current walkway. Qui-Gon shakily rose to his feet, his pain radiating through the Force. Both master and padawan were, if it were possibly, even more wary then they had been before. So, a bit of lightning had them so fearful? The absurdness of it cooled her anger, because that was frankly disappointing.

To be honest, this entire fight was disappointing. She had hardly used the Force at all save to toss them around a bit. She hadn't dabbled into her Sith Sorcery, nor attacked their mental shields, nor used the Dark Side in any really active way aside from that brief lightning attack. Hell, she hadn't even wrapped the Veil of the Dark Side around herself or them, she could make it nigh impossible for them to receive the Force's guidance during the fight or anticipate her movements if she so chose to. They were a decent lightsaber fight, managing to somewhat keep up with her, but that was about it. Dooku was a much harder challenge then the both of them combined ( _Not that she had used her Sorcery against him either_ ). She would have thought he'd have warned them of her capabilities. Guess not...

The Jedi…

They had no idea how to fight Sith anymore. A thousand years between the last war with the Sith and now had seen them shift their focus. At most they fought fallen Jedi every so often. They had no real experience facing the Dark Side. For these two specifically, Xanatos was their last encounter with it she assumed over a decade ago, and he had nothing on Siri. Probably a mere fraction of the Jedi had any experience with Makashi or any kind of real lightsaber fight outside of sparring ( _not that she had even tapped into that yet either_ ), forget trying to counteract dark uses of the Force. Jedi were used to facing blaster wielding opponents, the Sith however?

Sidious and Zannah were right, this was going to be a complete slaughter of the Jedi Order when the time came. They had no understanding of the Sith's abilities let alone how they operated. Whatever machinations Sidious had to wipe them out, Siri doubted they'd see it coming...

_Not unless we save them..._

She scowled at that little voice before a buzz howled towards her ears and she barely reacted in time to turn and deflect Obi-Wan's blade, chiding herself for her lapse in concentration. She snarled in anger, savagely smashing his blade aside and kicking upward, planting her foot into his chin and knocking him off the walkway. She turned and sprinted towards Qui-Gon, leaping over him as he lashed out. She landed on the otherside and then struck out, turning from defense to offense as she angled her blade to skewer. He caught and deflected the blow, countering, but she she batted the blow above and knelt, riposting right for his middle...

And was rather surprised to see him sidestep and spin the blade overhead and downward for the handle of her saberstaff's handle, as if he expected it, yet there was surprise on his face, so he reacted out of instinct, or a learned reaction...? She fell backward and dragged her blade down to avoid the hit and rolled, springing up, eyebrows furrowed. She struck out in quick stabs and slashes, he met them with equal elegance, and for once, he held his own. Ever strike was turned aside, and every riposte was dodged, blocked, or redirected. He matched her blow for blow, it was almost like facing Dooku. It was as if...

"You're experienced with Makashi," she said mildly, just a tad upset that her surprise was ruined.

Qui-Gon scoffed. "I was the padawan of Yan Dooku, of course I'm experienced with it."

And then he slipped his blade over hers and stabbed, she barely twisted in time to only have it burn through the side of her arm's tunic. She hissed and sprang back, forget that then, he would be able to counter her Makashi with his own. So much for that being a trick up her sleeve. Stupid, she should have remembered that about him, that moment of weakness might have done her in had Qui-Gon properly been able to abuse the moment. "Why the hell haven't you used Makashi before now?"

Qui-Gon answered by striking forward at her, muscles tensed to react to whatever way she made to counter. Instead she just battered the blow into the ground, activating the other end of her lightsaber and going for his head. He pulled back a bit, and Siri took that chance to turn and sprint into the laser gate hallway, Qui-Gon on her heels. The gates activated towards the end of the hallway, separating them. Siri tapped the gate for a brief confirmation, and then turned off her lightsaber. She glanced behind him to see Obi-Wan at the far end of the hallway. She didn't think he'd make the last gate; if he did, she'd be forced to fight them both at once. She knew she could take them both, but having Jinn isolated would make him a guaranteed kill without Obi-Wan to swoop in at the last second.

"To answer your question," said Qui-Gon, kneeling down briefly to lightly meditate, breathing hard, "For all my Master hammered it into my head, I dislike Makashi."

Siri didn't respond, merely beginning to pace, her eyes flickering up to Obi-Wan. She swallowed a bit, and watched his eyes track the bob. This was it... there was no more playing around. There would be no more chances for him to flee once he pursued her down the hallway. She'd kill his Master, and then he would look at her with the same anger and betrayal Garen had... and she'd kill him. Her hands briefly shook before she focused on control, struggling to push the emotions she didn't need down...

And growled when she felt a brief pass from Obi-Wan against her shields, his eyebrows widening as he got a taste of what she was feeling leaking through them. "Siri..."

She glared at him. "Shut up Obi-Wan!"

"You don't have to do this Siri," pleaded Obi-Wan, "Please, I feel your conflict, let us _help you_."

_He wants to help..._

"I don't need _your_ help," she spat, denying the way his words ripped at her.

He wanted to help, not kill...

Like Garen had at first...

Like Siolo Ur Manka had...

She shoved the emotions down, drawing on the Dark Side more actively, trying to smother it.

Qui-Gon had broken his meditation, studying her. "Is this what Master Galia would have wanted of you?"

Siri flinched briefly before glaring full force at him, snarling, "Galia was _**WEAK**_! It was her weakness... she died and abandoned me to this!"

"We go when its our time to join the Force, not because we are weak or strong," he said softly, "Adi cared for you, perhaps even loved you like a daughter, she would have been heartbroken to see what you've become."

Siri let a pained hiss through her lips. She had only really ever thought of her Master's fate as a source of pain to fuel her power in the Dark Side... but... her Master would have...

_We've shamed her..._

She shook her head and activated her saberstaff in preparation, drawing on that pain, that self-loathing, and fueling herself with it. She dove into her memories of her Sith apprenticeship, recalling one painful, angry, or hatred inducing memory after the other, the area noticeably chilling. "What she would have felt is irrelevant. She's dead. She died years ago to a tool that was far weaker than I am. You'll be as dead as she is in a minute, _Jedi,_ and the rest of your kind will follow soon enough."

She called out the Dark Side and wrapping it around herself and the area, draping the Veil of the Dark Side around them all. She watched them as her eyes turned ice cold, the tension rising through their shoulders, alarm in their eyes. Perhaps now, as the guidance of the Force abandoned them, and the Dark Side suffocated the area, they realized she was something more than mere Fallen Padawan. Perhaps they realized how easy she had been going on them. No more. She had wasted enough time with an old man and a memory of a boy she had once cared for, who couldn't possibly feel the way she had once felt for him.

When the laser fields dropped, there was a brief moment of hesitation from Qui-Gon, considering if he should wait. Siri didn't give him a chance, springing back into the room and dragging him forward with the Force tyrannically. He staggered in and she swung at him. He rolled and rose, green blade arcing through the air. She deflected and countered, other end snapping at him with such speed he had to heavily drag on the Force to block it. She watched Obi-Wan get caught behind the last laser field and grinned savagely.

This was the end.

She jabbed against Qui-Gon's mental shields with the Force as she lashed out with her blade against his, and he flinched at both impacts. Qui-Gon stumbled back, grimacing with pain and trying to throw her mental attack off. She chanted quietly under her breath, as Zannah had taught her years ago, and stabbed with pinpoint precision against his mind, driving the Dark Side in and flooding his perceptions with sounds and images that weren't there, tilting his equilibrium. He staggered, off-balanced, as she approached. She was mildly impressed he was able to fight at all, barely managing to deflect her blows as he jumbled around like a drunken man. She slashed down, he deflected upwards, she brought the other end of her blade up to sever through his head, but he stumbled back in time. She ground her teeth in frustration and surged forward, blade twirling and lashing out from every which angle...

_**THERE!** _

He blocked another high attack, and instead of using the other end of her saberstaff, she lashed upward with her boot and kicked his hand with Force enhanced strength, sending his lightsaber out of his hand. She spun, pulled her lightsaber back, and thrust forward...

_Don't kill him!_

"SIRI NO!" screamed Obi-Wan, his panic, fear, and what felt like heartbreak rippling through the Force.

Siri swerved and drove her lightsaber through Qui-Gon's side instead of his heart. The man cried out as she withdrew her lightsaber. She watched silently as he fell to his knees, clutching his side. She clenched her fists tightly and let loose a scream of frustration before picking him up with the Force and tossing the Jedi Master across the room.

She whirled and glared at Obi-Wan through the laser field. " ** _WHY!_** Why do you always hold me back Obi-Wan? Why is it always your voice filling me with doubt of the path I walk? Always your voice holding me back or trying to stop me from doing what needs to be done?"

Obi-Wan's eyes went wide. "Siri..."

Again, the way he said her name, it made her ache, it made her feel weak, it tugged away at the Dark Side, trying to steal her power away from her, holding her back, chaining her down...

She suckered in a breath as it hit her, as she finally understood. She turned away from him and walked up to the wall of the room, staring silently at it, lightsaber loosely touching the floor and burning into it. Darth Bane had been right all those years ago. Obi-Wan was her weakness...

_No!_

It was no longer his voice in her head anymore, but her own panicked one, because she had accepted, truly accepted at last, that Obi-Wan was her final chain...

_Please don't!_

He was holding her back from her true power and potential...

_You can't!_

The only way to truly be free was to break that chain...

_You love him!_

That foolish love, something born from such a short time spent together, that never should have become what it had. It was ridiculous even, they had spent one mission together, kissed once, and suddenly she was pinning for him for nearly a decade? Letting his voice hold her back and argue with her? It was ludicrous! He would always hold her back, never let her grown strong enough to kill Sidious, make her empire or seize his, and take her rightful place as Empress of the Galaxy.

_Please..._

That love had to die, Obi-Wan had to die. He didn't even feel anything specifically for her, just that stupid overarching Jedi compassion.

_Pl...e...se..._

The voice was getting so quiet now.

_I... don't... want... this..._

So very quiet...

* * *

Obi-Wan stepped into the circular room, one eye on Siri who was just... staring at a wall for some reason, as he moved to check on his master. Qui-Gon was crumpled against a wall on the far side, panting with pain and exhaustion. He could feel his Master mentally struggling, a darkness clouding their bond. He knelt down, pressed his head against his Master's, and focused his attention, pushing in and helping to drive the Dark Side from his head. Qui-Gon's cloudy eyes cleared up in moments, and he took a ragged breath.

"Obi-Wan," he rasped, "The Force... Siri... stop her... save her..."

"What?" he asked.

He rose to his feet and turned, eyes going to the Fallen Padawan. "Siri?"

"Obi-Wan."

Her voice was... cold. In a way it hadn't been even when she had threatened Qui-Gon minutes ago. Something was wrong, the Force was darkening by the second, deeper and deeper, colder and colder, a deep vortex of darkness and pain seeming to be eating her from the inside out from what he could feel. "Siri please! I can feel your pain! Turn away from it!"

"My name isn't Siri," she snarled, turning, her eyes blazing a sulfuric yellow, "That name belonged to a weak little girl! I'm not weak anymore! I'm not her anymore!"

"I've broken my last chain." He took a horrified step back as the Dark Side howled through the Force, echoing and baying. "My name, is Darth Tyrosus, and you will be the first Jedi I kill."

* * *

Sidious paused briefly on his way to give a speech in the senate in 'support' of his homeworld. He felt the howl of the Dark Side ripping through the Galaxy, his eyes going wide with surprise, and then pure dark delight. Finally... _**FINALLY** **!**_ After nearly a decade of molding her, his Apprentice had finally accepted her destiny. Perhaps he was a little irritated she had announced her ascension to Sithdom for the entire Galaxy, and the Jedi, to feel and hear, but he subdued the irritation. Siri Tachi was finally dead, the last trappings of the Jedi Padawan cast aside. When his apprentice returned from her mission, he would gaze into the molten eyes of Darth Tyrosus, revel in the completion of years of work, the next stage of his dynasty, and she would truely take her place by his side as she was always meant to...

* * *

Master Yoda gasped, dropping his glimmer stick and staggering, clutching a hand to his chest.

"Master Yoda?" questioned Mace Windu.

"A mistake we have made," rasped the Grandmaster, "A grave mistake we have made. To Naboo we must go, now, if anything to be salvaged, there is."

* * *

Darth Tyrosus...

Obi-Wan's heart was hammering with agony, with fear, and despair. The Dark Side oozing out of the Fallen Padawan was enough to drown in. No, she wasn't a Fallen Padawan... she... she had just implied...

"Sith," he said in disbelief.

Siri's lips peeled back with cruel delight. "Yes, I am, little Jedi."

She aimed a hand forward, and lightning ripped from her fingertips with a brutal intensity. Obi-Wan threw himself out of the way, the lightning exploding into the wall, and then yelped when the Force gripped him, rocketing him into the ceiling with a brutal impact, and then flinging him to the far wall. He crumpled to the floor, wincing with pain, only to hear the cackle of electricity again. On reflex, he raised his lightsaber, and was surprised to see that the blade could catch and absorb the attack. She lowered her hand, and dragged her tongue across her lips hungrily.

"Do I take my time?" she mused, "And kill you slowly? Or perhaps..."

She raised and clenched her fist, and Obi-Wan began to choke, his airway forced closed. "Do I snap your neck and kill you in an instant?"

Obi-Wan struggles to fight against the oppressive darkness, against a dark power he had never faced before. This... this was insane...

"No, I think I'll do it slow." She opened her palm, and Obi-Wan took a ragged breath. "After all you've held me back over the years, I'm going to pick you apart piece by piece."

Oi-Wan looked at her in horror. He could hardly recognize her anymore, her Force Signature had darkened to the point where it almost felt like she was a completely different person, almost all light he felt blotted out or smothered. He tried to steel himself, tried to force calm and focus... but all he felt was pain and loss. It was like Siri was _gone_... he had gotten her back for so short a time, and now it was like something inhuman was wearing her flesh. It was the loss on that fateful mission all over again, except so much worse.

She slowly circled the pit, chanting in a harsh language he didn't understand. She pointed a finger at him...

He screamed in pain, dropping his lightsaber and clutching his head as agony ripped through him. Harsh howling laughter echoed in his ears from all around him. The entire room distorted, black and red splattering across his vision, tilting and swirling like clouds through the air as the floor disappeared from view. The smell of rotting flesh filled his nostrils, making him gag. It felt like he was plummeting and yet rising through the atmosphere at the same time. He had to force down the urge to hurl as he lost his sense of up and down. What... what had she done to him...?

"Come now Kenobi," came Siri's mocking voice, her form rippling and walking through the haze, her lightsaber's blood red hue shifting sinister through the dark clouds roiling through the area, "That was a low grade incantation. Surely you can resist it better than this?"

He tried to rise to his feet, but buckled, feeling like his foot was slipping off the edge of a cliff. He knew he was on solid ground, but his senses were screaming otherwise...

"I'm going to rip your mind asunder with childish ease," she purred with dark delight, deactivating her lightsaber, clipping it to her belt, kneeling down in front of him, grabbing his chin and forcing him to meet her blazing yellow eyes, "You Jedi are so focused on your fancy glow-sticks that you forget the Force is your true strength. You have no defense against such an intrusive mental attack, you're defenseless, and you have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy driving you insane before I kill you."

"Siri...," he whispered, "Please..."

She laughed. "Oh Obi-Wan..."

She raised a finger and pressed it against his forehead, her voice hungry, "Let's begin."

_I don't want this!_

He had a moment before the pain hit him, of such terrible clarity, of feeling and hearing her voice scream in despair from the Darkness she was drowning in. The Dark Side was eating her alive, it was going to leave nothing of her left but this hollowed out monster. Then he was in agony as she easily pierced into his shields and into his mind.

"Mmm, what shall we do first, hmm?" her voice echoed aloud and in his mind, "Shall we make you live your worst fear again and again? Shall we take your memories, one by one, until you have nothing? Shall we put delusions in your head of things that never were, only to reveal the lies and rob you of them? Or perhaps you should suffer as I did once, early on before I began my Sith Apprenticeship, with all the fears of the Order shunning me. Perhaps I'll make you believe the entire Order thinks you are worthless? That you are some fallen leper to be shunned and degraded, your name dragged through the mud for something so out of your control."

"What..." he rasped, "Are you... talking about...?"

She snarled at him, her red rage searing his mind and making him scream. "Don't play coy Kenobi! Just how much did you drag me down? How much did the Temple's rumor mill tear me apart? How many loathed and cursed and spit on my name like I was vermin when you and your Master told them I had fallen and died? Tell me who spoke ill of me, so that I may make them suffer before they die when the Temple burns!"

"No one!" he screamed in agony, "We didn't tell anyone!"

"You lie," she hissed.

"I made him promise not to tell!" Obi-Wan screamed, "PLEASE SIRI! YOU'RE IN MY HEAD! YOU CAN SENSE THE TRUTH! _**PLEASE STOP** **! PLEASE!**_ "

And then the sharp, stabbing, burning pain stopped.

"You're telling the truth," she murmured, confused and baffled, the area slowly draining of its red and black, the distortions and smells and sounds fading back to normal, "Why would you hide that piece of information? Why shield a fallen padawan you didn't give a damn about?"

He stared into those molten eyes, tears of agony streaming down his face. Did she... really think... he would have done that to her...? That he didn't care?

Through the agony, through the Dark Side clouding the area, smothering them both, he felt something, it was the dimmest of lights from Siri, down the current connection between their minds, fading fast, but through it, he heard the Force, ' _Yes_ '

Did she... not know how he felt? ' _Yes_ '

"Why Kenobi?" she snarled, "What game were you playing?"

' _Tell her_ ', the Force whispered desperately, as if with it's last breath.

"Because I loved you," he whispered, "Even now... I still do."

Her eyes went wide, and that sulfuric yellow dimmed. "That's... you... no, no you're lying!"

She began to pull out of his mind, but he grabbed ahold, and he poured what he felt down the connection. All the memories they had during the times they had met during their apprenticeship, what he had felt during their last mission together, all the misery and loneliness and longing he had felt over the years. The acknowledgement that he was refusing to let go of his attachment, so briefly born and acknowledged, but held onto and embellished with an un-Jedi-like obsessiveness. Of how he and Qui-Gon would often spend their down time drinking tea and lost in their past, Qui-Gon's stories of he and Tahl giving rise to fantasies of Obi-Wan's own. Of the thought of what could have been, of growing old together in love as Qui-Gon and Tahl once had. No matter how much it had shamed him, made him feel like he wasn't the Jedi he should be, he showed it all to her and shoved it through.

Siri screamed and ripped away, the feedback of it making Obi-Wan cry out as well and roll away, clutching his head in agony. He struggled to get his shields together, struggled to subdue and release his pain to the Force. It was going to take _days_ of meditation before he could repair this, he knew it, but he needed something workable _NOW_. So he struggled, and when he felt Qui-Gon nudge his end of the bond, he let his Master in to give him strength.

Obi-Wan blinked a few times, taking ragged breaths. He felt beyond jittery and shaken, but he could focus. He tilted his head, hearing...

He looked at Siri, she was sobbing to herself, arms clutched to her chest and shivering. Her Force Signature was an utter jumbled up mess he could hardly make sense of, light and dark roiled and struggling for dominance. Her emotions were all over the place, her shields in tatters, leaking her feelings for all to feel, if they could make sense of the chaos. "Siri...?"

She looked up at him, and her eyes were blue. "Obi-Wan... I..."

It felt like a balm, seeing those eyes, and he pushed through his own pain, staggering to his feet, stumbling over, and half-collapsing into an embrace, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face into his shoulder, shaking uncontrollably...

_A man in a dark cloak hurled lightning at him, yellow sulfuric eyes boring into him as a girl's scream filled the air..._

Obi-Wan flinched as a memory not his own overtook him...

* * *

__He, no, she, walked into a room, finding a bound family of Togruta. The dark man's voice hissed in her ear, "You're task is simple, my apprentice, Kill them all..."_ _

__He/She defied him, but he was not to be denied, so she killed the parents, hoping it would spare the children..._ _

_The dark man turned, aimed his hands, and unleashed a brutal barrage of lightning at the two children. He/she watched, horrified even through the numbing cold, as the children melted. Clothes caught on fire, skin bubbled, eyeballs burst, bodies spasmed. In a moment, both were dead in what had to be one of the most painful deaths they had ever seen._

_"Let that be a twofold lesson, apprentice," spat the dark man, "One, to never trust the words of another. And two, to not believe the easy path is not laid with traps. You thought by killing the parents you spared the children. Instead, you made their deaths agonizing instead of quick and painless."_

* * *

Obi-Wan choked a bit, horror bleeding out of him. "Siri... who is that?"

Siri suckered in a terrified breath, and he felt he reign in her emotions, her memories, and Force presence through sheer strength of will, tightening her shields and filling the holes with a honed, desperate practice that spoke of a do-or-die pressure. She broke away from him, staggering to her feet and trying to bolt away, only to find the laser gates active for the moment. Obi-Wan struggled to his feet, walking over and gripping her shoulder firmly.

"Siri, _who_ is that?"

"You weren't supposed to see," she whispered, "I didn't want... I'm _sorry_..."

"Siri," he demanded, " ** _Who_**?"

"My Master," she answered, "Sidious, Darth Sidious."

A dry swallow ran down Obi-Wan's throat. "A sith lord."

Siri laughed, it was a dejected, dark, broken sound. " _The_ Sith Lord. The most powerful in a thousand years since the Line of Bane began."

Obi-Wan didn't know who the hell Bane was, but line sounded like a legacy line, and a thousand years was when the Sith had been assumed defeated. "They've been hiding this entire time."

"Hiding," she spat, breaking his grip and turning to narrow her eyes at him, "You think the Sith have been _hiding_ all this time? Ignorant and foolish. They haven't been cowering in a hole somewhere. No, they have been growing, planning, plotting, moving pieces on a holoboard and setting up for their revenge against the Jedi. There are machinations in play, Obi-Wan, a thousand years of them, that you have no concept of. Beyond that, each Sith Lord expands upon the last, is more _powerful_ than the last."

"He's one man," said Obi-Wan, "Come back with us, tell us what you know, lead us to him, and we can defeat him."

She shook her head, and... he felt her Force Presence settle, the chaos and swirling mass gone. It was... grayish, but... he could feel tints of darkness spreading. "You hear but you do not _listen_ Obi-Wan. You have no concept of the power Sidious wields. I've seen it firsthand Obi-Wan, you... you're sheltered by your ignorance of the true Power of the Dark Side. I'm still decades away from being ready to face him and take his place."

"Why would you want to take his place?" exclaimed Obi-Wan, "Why would you want to become him? Why would you want any of this?"

She glared, but beneath the heat was nothing but pain. "It's not about what I want, it's _never_ been about what I want. It's what must be done, only another Sith Lord can defeat him, only with the power of the Dark Side can he be beaten."

"Do what you want for once," he pleaded, "Walk away, come back to the Jedi with me."

She stared at him, and he could see, could feel the conflict, but she turned away. "It's not enough."

"It is!"

"No! It's not!" she snarled, "If I thought for a moment it was enough, that the Jedi could beat Sidious, I would, for _you_. But it isn't. The Jedi are weak fools, complacent, unchanging, blind slaves to the corrupt senate and their old archaic ways. They can't even get out of their own rut, let alone prepare to face Sidious."

She shook her head, eyeing the hall of laser gates as it deactivated. "Forget it Obi-Wan. I'll create some excuse or another for failing the mission. He'll punish me worse than before, I know that, but you'll live. You should find somewhere to hide until it all blows over, then I'll come for you, and we can be together at last."

"Give the Jedi a chance Siri," he said, "Give _me_ a chance to help."

Something... changed in her Force Presence, a swirling, a further darkening, not as deep as what he had felt both a few minutes ago and during the entire duel, but getting there slowly, a gleam in her eyes that made him unsettled. "Give you a chance..."

She smiled, and it was a creepy thing. "Yes, that could work, couldn't it? I'm still decades away _alone_ , but together..."

She reached a hand up to caress his face. "Join me Obi-Wan, learn the power of the Dark Side, and we can take him earlier. Perhaps even in time to save your _precious_ Jedi Order."

He stepped back in horror. "Siri, no! I would never turn to the Dark Side!"

She scoffed. "I thought that once too, but here I am."

Her voice grew hushed, hungry, alluring, "You don't know it's power, Obi-Wan, the things you can do with it. I trashed the both of you the moment I started calling on it's power. The Jedi have no knowledge on how to fight Sith anymore, you saw that for yourself. Join me, and I'll share those secrets with you, share that power."

"If the price is my soul, then I won't pay," he countered, "I felt you Siri, it felt like the Dark Side was eating you from the inside out, hollowing your soul out. I won't do that, and I won't let you fall that far again."

"Let me?" she whispered darkly, "Obi-Wan, you don't have any say in the matter of what I do."

Obi-Wan was in a state of panic unbecoming of a Jedi. He had brought her back, brought her out of that awful state, yet it felt like he was starting to lose her all over again. The Dark Side's grip was firm, its taint all through her, refusing to let go. It was spreading and regaining ground...

"We'll remake the Sith, Obi-Wan," she said greedily, "No more of that barbaric Rule of Two. Just you and I, and whoever we chose to uplift. Perhaps even our own children."

"I won't fall Siri," he said firmly.

She snarled. "Are you going to betray me Obi-Wan?"

Betray her?! Was she mad? They had been fighting mere minutes ago, they hadn't even been on the same side for there to even be betrayal. "Siri, the Dark Side is clouding your judgement. I love you, I want to help you, but you won't let me."

"You're a broken record Obi-Wan," she said flatly, "The only help you want is to conform me to your precious light, turn me back into an obedient little Jedi puppet like you are."

He reached out and grasped her hands. "I don't care if you're a Jedi or not, so long as you're _you_. Not some dark side _monster_."

She growled. "Is that what I am, _Kenobi_? A monster?"

"That's not what I said!"

"Really?" she drawled crossly, "That's what it sounded..."

A shadow loomed over them both, and Obi-Wan had a brief moment to look over Siri's shoulder and see Qui-Gon bringing the hilt of his lightsaber down hard...

**_CRACK_ **

Obi-Wan winced as his Master hit the back of Siri's head and she crumpled into his arms. Qui-Gon took a ragged breath, clipping his lightsaber to his belt, hand going to the wound in his side. "That... wasn't going anywhere, Padawan mine."

Obi-Wan gently laid Siri down. "I... I know."

Qui-Gon sat down on the floor, as did Obi-Wan. "You brought her back Padawan, I didn't think it was possible, but you did."

Obi-Wan laughed bitterly. "Did I? You saw her just moments ago..."

"The Dark Side's grasp is tight and treacherous Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon solemnly, "Just because you brought her out of it's depths doesn't mean the fight for her soul is over."

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, sighing wearily. "It's far from over."

Qui-Gon nodded, wincing briefly. "But for today, it is. I need a dip in a bacta tank..."

"You willingly would get it one?" teased Obi-Wan, desperate for some kind of humor in this moment.

"Considering that I believe I'm missing part of a liver," commented Qui-Gon mildly, "Yes."

Obi-Wan looked at the searing hole in the side of his Master, swallowing hard, could feel the man calling heavily on the Force to fight the pain. "It... could have been your life."

Qui-Gon sighed softly. "Let it go Obi-Wan. We don't have time to linger."

The man struggled to his feet, bending down with pain to grab one of Siri's arms. "We need to get her properly sedated, get ourselves tended to, check with the Queen, contact the Council, and spirit Siri away to the Temple before this 'Sidious' gets a chance to learn what happened and retrieve her. This is only the beginning of a much darker conflict than any of us could have imagined."

A spike of fear ran through Obi-Wan at the thought of that _monster_ getting his hands on Siri again, he swallowed hard. "The Sith... a kriffing Sith Lord, he can't get ahold of her again master. I... I saw a memory, when her shields were scattered, of what he had her do, what he did to her..."

Qui-Gon tugged him forward towards the laser-gate. "He wont Obi-Wan. Forget the Sith for the time being, we will inform the Council, and go from there. Keep your focus here and now, Padawan mine."

Obi-Wan nodded, and they moved, only to get caught behind the laser gates just before they could start down the hallway; he sighed. "This is going to take awhile..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap for the Phantom Menace.
> 
> Siri goes full Sith for a few minutes and decks Obi-Wan, but is then defeated by the powah uv love. Or well, Obi-Wan shoving light and love down the brief mental connection, it doesn't mix well with the Dark Side. Of course, Siri is still dark (she didn't choose to turn away), will resist and struggle with what is to come. Because frankly, I severely doubt coming back from the Dark Side is a quick, clean, bells and whistle thing.
> 
> If Darth Vader had lived and made it off the Death Star, it, to me, would make sense for him to have struggled with his past and the continued temptations of the Dark Side.
> 
> Anyway, part one of the story is over.
> 
> Part Two: Post-Phantom-Menace - Clone Wars. Featuring Siri struggling with herself, lots of angst/emotions, and Obi-Wan getting in way over his head as he learns the true horror of what a Sith Apprenticeship is, how deep and damned Siri has made herself, and yet still tries to guide Siri out of that dark pit...
> 
> It's not going to be pleasant.
> 
> And even if he succeeds in pulling her back, will she stay light in the long run?
> 
> Tons of Obi-Wan & Siri Tachi moments ahead!
> 
> And eventually we get to interact with Padawan Skywalker under Master Jinn (Maybe better, maybe worse, than being Obi-Wan's padawan, we will see), and see what Siri and Anakin make of one another...


	24. Assessment

Obi-Wan stood in the center of the Council Chamber, waiting patiently as Qui-Gon detailed the encounter with Siri Tachi to the Jedi Council. Master Yoda and Windu had already been on their way to Naboo, so the return trip had been quick, and they had left before the new Chancellor and the victory festivities had begun on Naboo. Siri had been sedated for the rest of the stay on Naboo while Qui-Gon had been healed, and the trip home. She was currently in the Halls of Healing, under lock and key in a secure room with an IV of sedatives hooked up to her until a decision could be made of her fate. The council had been gathered and then they had been called.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy to convince them to give her a chance, or him for the matter, and was bracing himself for the revelation.

"...at that point, she overwhelmed me, assaulting my mind with sights and sounds that weren't there through the Dark Side," said Qui-Gon, a frown on his face, "I'll admit, it was an... experience."

Obi-Wan snorted and stepped forward. "That's one way to put it Master."

The Council's focus shifted to him as Qui-Gon motioned to his padawan, "It's best that he take over the report from here in."

Master Windu made a motion for him to begin.

"Siri came close to killing Qui-Gon," said Obi-Wan softly, "She disarmed him, and was about to run him through, but... I screamed at her to stop, and she reacted, diverting her attack into his side instead of straight through him."

Yoda's ears twitch. "Hmm..."

Obi-Wan swallowed under Yoda's scrutiny. "After that she... well, screamed at me for holding her back. I had apparently been a voice of reason to her over the years."

Plo Koon tilted his head, curious. "Were you? Is there a reason for this? To my knowledge you two were never particularly close."

Obi-Wan gave a self-depreciating smile. "The report we gave to the Council eight years ago on the mission to protect Taelson Fry was... not accurate on several things."

That earned him a glare from Master Windu, Obi-Wan smiled a little at it, happily defiant. "Siri and I... had nearly died on that mission, and might have let our emotions get the better of us at one point, developing feelings for one another."

"Of course you did," said Master Windu, sighing, "Continue the current missions report Padawan Kenobi, we will deal with the truth of that one another time."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to release his apprehension into the Force. "Something... happened to Siri then, as she struggled with herself. She moved to the side of the room, and I rushed to check on my master while she seemed internally occupied. I helped him purge the Dark Side affecting his mind, and then focused on Siri. She... appeared to overcome her feelings for me. She grew so cold in the Force, so deep and entrenched in the Dark Side without that holding her back. She..."

He swallowed. "Her eyes turned molten yellow, the Dark Side howled, and she cast aside her name, calling herself Darth Tyrosus."

The uproar that ripped through the Council room was... expected.

"She what?"

"That's preposterous."

"She's a self-proclaimed Sith?"

"If she's that fallen and deluded, why is she still alive?"

Yoda smacked his stick into the floor for silence, eyes hard on Obi-Wan. "Lie the Force does not, lie Obi-Wan does not. Screamed through the Galaxy, the Force did. A Sith, she is."

There was dead silence in the room, before Obi-Wan tilted his chin up a bit and said defiantly, "Was, she _was_ a Sith."

Yoda narrowed his eyes. "Once you start down the dark path, forever does it dominate your destiny. No mere fallen Padawan is she, in absolute darkness, she was. Return from that, no one does."

"I am not finished my report yet, Master Yoda," said Obi-Wan firmly.

"Hrmph," sounded out the little green troll, "Qui-Gon's defiance I sense in you, need that, you do not."

"I am a credit to his teachings," said Obi-Wan mildly.

Qui-Gon was the perfect picture of innocent serenity, though he was not-so-subtly cackling down the training bond. ' _I think you've earned a trip to Dex's, padawan mine_.'

Obi-Wan's mouth twitched a little. ' _I doubt we're going to have time for that. And I may or may not end up suspended or thrown out of the Order for what I'm about to say._ '

' _If you go, so to will I_ ,' answered Qui-Gon firmly, ' _There are other light side sects in the galaxy that we may find support in. I doubt Anakin would hesitate to follow._ '

"Continue then, you will," said Yoda.

"The Council will not like what I hear, but I ask that you allow me to finish uninterrupted and save your questions for after," said Obi-Wan.

"Granted," said Master Windu, sighing again.

He had done that alot this report. Normally, Obi-Wan marked that as a sign of him and Qui-Gon doing quite well for themselves. Considering he'd need the Council's approval for helping Siri... it wasn't a good thing this time.

"I would say that we fought, but really," said Obi-Wan, "She destroyed me. Her powers had grown immensely, or rather, she was no longer held back. She turned viscous and cruel, combined with how her Force Presence shifted, I... thought she was a different person. A monster wearing Siri's skin. It felt like the Dark Side was eating her from the inside out. I could hear her, feel her, crying out inside, that she didn't want this, but she couldn't overcome the Dark Side. It was... perhaps the most awful thing I have ever felt in my life."

He took a moment to collect himself before continuing, "She toyed with me, breaking through my shields, and commented on wanting to drive me insane as punishment for always holding her back. She detailed how she might do this, before settling on something that had been an apparent fear of hers early on: To make me believe the Order considered me fallen and worthless, shunned and degraded, in her own words 'your name dragged through the mud for something so out of your control'."

He grew quiet for a moment. "She was very bitter about that, Sith or not."

He let out a breath. "Fortunately, I had never done that to her. She was in my head, a burning, agonizing presence. But there could be no lies or deceptions that deep into my mind. I told her we had never told the Council she had fallen, at least not prior to this mission. She was... bewildered by that, and demanded to know why I would shield a fallen padawan that I supposedly didn't care about. So, I told her the truth."

He looked Master Yoda straight in the eye. "I told her it was because I had loved her. That I still loved her."

The air of heavy disapproval was tangible from the Councilors. Though, Master Koon felt more exasperated than anything else.

"I forced my feelings down the mental connection between our minds from her mental attack, and, for lack of a better description, disrupted the Dark Side within her," said Obi-Wan, "The backlash of it sent us both reeling, but once I recovered, her eyes were blue again, and her Force Presence was in utter chaos. I tried to reach her, to finish drawing her from the Dark. I... caught a memory slipping through her weakened shields..."

"I saw her Sith Master as he ' _afflicted_ '," spat Obi-Wan, "His training on her. It was a brutal thing, forcing her to choose between killing parents or children, implying the other set would be let go. She chose the parents, and he... he slaughtered the children, melting them with Force Lightning, calling it a lesson."

The disgust in the air was pestilent, an affronted grunt from Plo Koon a brief break in the Council's silence.

"I demanded an explanation, of who that was," said Obi-Wan, "She was... shaken by my confession to her, more conflicted than ever, and revealed the truth. She said her Master was a Sith Lord known as Darth Sidious. She revealed that the Sith had lurked in the shadows for the last thousand years, growing, planning, plotting, preparing for their revenge against the Jedi Order. She warned there were a thousand years of machinations in play, that each Sith Lord expanded upon the last, was more powerful. She said Sidious was the most powerful one yet."

"I attempted to argue with her, convince her to return to the Jedi Order and help us hunt him down," said Obi-Wan before he sighed, "But... she began to slip back into the Dark Side. She wouldn't listen, said the Dark Side was the only way she could kill him, that only another Sith Lord could best him. She... tried to recruit me to her cause, to fall and help her kill her Master, but I refused. The situation continued to degrade until Qui-Gon snuck up from behind and knocked her out."

Obi-Wan folded his hands into his robes and waited. Yoda, was the first to voice his thoughts.

"Hmph, see through you, I do," said Yoda, hopping off his chair, walking over, poking his chest with his stick, "Attached you are."

Then the ancient Jedi Master turned and whacked Qui-Gon with it. "Because attached you still are! Taught your padawan to let go, you did not, because let go, you have not! Hmm?"

Qui-Gon winced briefly before clearing his throat. "That 'attachment', as you put it, is the only reason either of us are alive, Siri Tachi didn't completely lose herself to Darth Tyrosus, and that she is now secured within the temple."

Yoda scowled a bit, harrumphing before waddling back towards his seat.

"It would appear," mused Plo Koon, "That attachment is as much of a weakness to the Sith as it is to the Jedi."

He turned to look at Obi-Wan. "Is this what you intend to do, Padawan Kenobi? I can feel your unasked request. You wish to use this attachment to return her to the light?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "I do not wish to use our feelings for one another as a _weapon_. I want her to be free of the Dark Side and the Sith because I _care_ for her."

"As far as I am concerned Padawan Kenobi," said Master Windu sharply, "You are dangerously attached to a confirmed darksider, a _Sith_. You should be kept well away from one another lest she draw you into the Dark. You should be not only censured, but reprimanded for such an attachment, and your continual deception to the Council about your mission eight years ago."

"Then you will doom her," said Obi-Wan firmly, and with pure defiance, "Punish me as you see fit, but do not condemn her to remain in the Dark Side because of the Jedi Order's uncompromising and stagnant Code and views."

There, he had said it, and judging by the fierce pride Qui-Gon wasn't even bothering to shield, he stood by Obi-Wan. The entire Council stared at him, but he did not shift his position. The silence was broken in... a way he didn't exactly expect.

"Encourage Qui-Gon to take a Padawan, why did we?" mused Yaddle with humor, "When knew this would happen, we did."

Yoda's ears twitched, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. "Know that, I do not."

"I seem to recall you being the chief agitator in that regard," recalled Qui-Gon before taking a diplomatic approach, "This is a relatively unprecedented situation in our time. Approaching it with an open mind may lead to a favorable result, and not only that. The fact stands that she is our only lead, our only clue, towards finding this 'Darth Sidious'. Without her, we have nothing to even begin to try to find him with. There is no question in this."

"There are ways such information could be forced from her," pointed out Master Windu.

"No matter what they've done," said Qui-gon softly, "No one, not even a darksider, even a Sith, deserves to have their mind violated. And if any of you so much as mention Revan's Cure, I will hand in my resignation to the Order immediately."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but tense at the thought of it, of having one's mind taken apart and a new identity put in it's place. How the Jedi Council of old have **_ever_** thought that was an acceptable solution was beyond him.

Mace scowled at him. " _That_ was not what I was referring to. Do _not_ put words in my mouth. I was implying that the collective Council trying to compel her through the Force to speak."

"If we wish her a chance to return from the Dark Side," said Plo Koon mildly, "Then taking such action will only set her against us. I for one believe we should grant Obi-Wan the chance to help her."

"She could be carrying time sensitive information," countered Master Windu.

"I am not for or against this, but I will point out that there is very little chance her Sith Master does not already know we have his apprentice," said Master Piell, "Since he sent her there to begin with, he would be paying attention to the situation. In which case, I assume he would already be covering his trail and attempting to mitigate any damage that she may potentially reveal. He has had a several day head start on us considering the time it took to get her here, let alone come to a decision."

"There is little mitigation that can be done if we get his identity out of her," said Master Windu.

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I'm... not sure she knows."

"And what brings you to that conclusion?" inquired Plo Koon.

"She hates him," said Obi-Wan with an uneasy awe, "She hates him more than I have ever felt anyone hate anything. I don't think he'd trust her with his identity. She only referred to him as Sidious, no other name."

"She's not stupid," he said flatly, "She might think a Sith Lord is the only thing that could beat him because of how they operate, always hidden in the shadows where only another Sith could see them. But if we could be directed right at him, even she has to acknowledge that the entire Council, and perhaps a few of our most experienced Masters, together could take him down."

He's probably giving her to much benefit of the doubt right now. He knows it, shes practically drowning in the Dark Side, drawn in and addicted to its power like a death stick addict. But he will say and do what he needs to do, even if its a lie, manipulation, letting them come to their own incorrect conclusions, leading them on, or whatever, to get the Council to agree.

Though he hopes he doesn't have to do to much of that. Apprentice to a maverick or not, he's still a Jedi.

"Do you truly believe, young one," asked Ki-Adi-Mundi, "That you can bring a Sith back from the Dark Side?"

"I believe that I can bring Siri back," said Obi-Wan, "If not fully to the light, than at least far enough away from the Dark to not return to the Sith."

"That is a large concession to grant," remarked Ki-Adi-Mundi, "Why should we expect or allow anything but her becoming a Jedi again if she can be pulled back?"

"Because expecting a perfect success is setting ourselves up for failure, and risking enough pressure to ruin any chance she has," said Obi-Wan, "I will do my best, but if the best I can do is help her stay away from the Dark, from becoming that _monster_ again, then even if she isn't a Jedi, I will consider it a success. More of a success than any Jedi has had in the matter for the last thousand years at least."

"Assuming we allow this attempt, what if she refuses to turn away from the Dark Side?" questioned Master Windu.

Obi-Wan didn't respond, refusing to acknowledge the possibility.

Qui-Gon answered for him, giving a small, sad smile. "Then she can't hurt anyone else when she lives in a cell for the rest of her life..."

* * *

Its hours before a decision is made, the both of them poked and prodded and questioned before they grudgingly relented. Most of the Council departs after the meeting is concluded. Plo Koon, Yoda, and Mace Windu join Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they move to the Halls of Healing.

"Mention what you wish with Young Skywalker, you did not," commented Yoda as they walked.

"I made my intentions perfectly clear when we were last on Coruscant," answered Qui-Gon.

"Give permission for you to train the boy, we did not," rebuked Yoda, "Trials, your padawan has not yet taken, has he, hmm?"

"I would say that Obi-Wan is about to enter one of the greatest trials of his life," commented Qui-Gon, earning a wack from Yoda's stick.

' _Nice of you to use my struggles like that_ ', bemoaned Obi-Wan down the bond.

Qui-Gon sent a fond ruffle through the Force. ' _Kind of you to offer_ '.

' _I don't recall doing so._ '

' _I can bribe you with tea for the duration of your 'trial'?_ '

' _Done_.'

Yoda sighed. "Unwise this is. Many risks, between Skywalker and Tachi, does the Order take. Uncertain the future is, clouded."

"The Force has been clouded for years now Master Yoda," said Obi-Wan, sighing, "Before I became a Padawan even, its only grown more and more clouded."

"I cannot help but wonder if the Sith have anything to do with that," mused Plo Koon.

There was silence as they considered that, and Obi-Wan conceded a, "Something to ask Siri eventually."

The moment they entered the Halls of Healing, Obi-Wan was confronted with a _very_ angry Bant Eerin stalking up to him and brushing past the Jedi Counselors without even a nod of acknowledgement. "Obi-Wan Kenobi! Did you know? Did you know about Siri the last time you were on Coruscant, and _not_ tell me?"

"Uh... hi Bant," said Obi-Wan sheepishly.

"Obi-Wan was under strict orders to not speak of the Darksider unless given permission to," said Master Windu.

Bant glowered a him for a moment before huffing and turning leading them in, "That Darksider has a name you know. Master Che and I have been looking Siri over since she was put into our care. I am not pleased with what we've found."

"Which is...?" prompted Master Windu.

"See for yourself," said Bant.

Obi-Wan walked into the secure room, finding Siri naked on her back, a cloth drawn up to cover her lower half, Healer Che running a softly glowing hand down... trails of scars and burns. Obi-Wan swallowed thickly at the sight. Qui-Gon had said Darksider's training and conditioning was harsh... but... seeing it was another matter entirely.

"From what we can tell, the physical scars are from various sources," said Bant in a forced calm voice, "Vibroblades and staves seeming to be the most common that we can figure, and none of these hits were pulled. The burns, well... I... I'm not experienced with what caused them. Master Che says they are Force based."

Healer Che briefly looked up. "I've ventured a look into the archives during my last break, in particular the healers section, and having read up on pre-Russan Force damage treatment, determined them to be from Force Lightning. A large majority of her body has signs of exposure to this, it lingers in the Force even after the skin has healed. She is very fortunate that we have knowledge of how to treat and prevent long term damage from this extensive amount an exposure."

"Long term?" rumbled Plo Koon.

"Electrical shocks can cause nerve damage," explained Healer Che, "Especially from this particular type of Force attack. Her joints would suffer in particular, arthritis is a common side effect if not treated. There would be a high chance of cataracts in her eyes as well. There is, to be frank, enough side effects that it is better to simply treat and eliminate the possibility of them."

"Siri didn't seem to be in any pain," murmured Obi-Wan.

Healer Che wagged a finger. "Darksiders thrive off pain, and can have an incredible amount of tolerance to it, thresholds beyond what most sentients, even Jedi, can tolerate. Continual amounts of a low dosage of pain or irritation would most likely not even register for her or she may just be used to it, not to mention draw strength from. Its also a simple possibility that she is young and relatively healthy, and as a Force Sensitive, her body can recover from the damage."

Healer Che frowned. "She more recently suffered several whole body exposures to it from what I can tell, and it was not a minor thing. Scans show her insides were a little cooked a bit by her last exposure if that is what it was. Even worse is her mental condition..."

The healer shook her head. "I have only done a cursory examination of her mind as of the moment, as its generally not wise to delve into a Darksiders mind without taking preparations, but there are signs that her shields were shattered and someone ripped through her mind, _recently_. To the point where she had to compartmentalize the damage to deal with another time. I am treating her physical wounds before I attempt to treat that."

Obi-Wan felt like he was going to be sick.

"In addition, there are... lingering presences not her own in her head," admitted the healer, just a tad uncomfortable, "She has had multiple beings, all dark, go through her mind at one point with either repetition, or deeply enough, to leave a residue of their presence. At least two, up to four, its hard to tell honestly."

"Multiple?" questioned Master Windu sharply.

The healer shook her head. "I can't give you more than a number."

Force... Obi-Wan was mortified, "I understand that darksiders are harsh... but this is..."

"The Sith are a disease," spat Master Windu, "They have no regard for any sanctity of life."

Healer Che paused. "Sith. You are saying..."

"It is to be kept quiet for the time being," said Master Windu firmly, "The continued existence of the Sith is currently a tightly guarded secret."

"That's... no, no, Siri can't be a Sith!" said Bant in horror, "It's obvious something awful must have happened to make her fall, but the Sith?!"

"Well, that puts things into perspective," mused Healer Che, "I thought this was extreme, even for a Dark Jedi to inflict on someone."

Bant turned to Obi-Wan, eyes pleading, but he could only sigh. "I'm sorry Bant, she's is a Sith Apprentice."

Bant swallowed, hard, and struggled to contain her emotions. "Oh Siri... how could it end up this way?"

"We're going to find out," said Obi-Wan, "And help her come back from this."

"Is there anything else you have been able to observe or determine?" asked Plo Koon.

"Perhaps that she hasn't bothered with a healing trance in a very long time," said Healer Che, "She has had exposure to toxic environments or chemicals that have left traces in her bloodstream over the years. A trance could have easily purged them. She doesn't take very good care of herself. Otherwise, there is nothing else that you would need to be informed of."

"Need to be?" inquired Master Windu, "She is a darksider..."

"She is also a patient," said Healer Che firmly, "And any non-Jedi are subject to patient-doctor confidentiality."

"Padawan Tachi was never formally removed from the Order," commented Plo Koon without judgement, "Nor did she hand in any forms of resignation."

Yoda spoke up for the first time since entering the room. "Appreciate such intrusiveness, she will not. If dire they are not, no more need we know."

"It could be unknowingly important, or perhaps give an edge or understanding...," began Master Windu.

"I gave her a full-body physical," said Healer Che in exasperation, "Can you say you are truly interested in her vital sign readings, weight, height, muscle tone, sexual activity, test results for various diseases, and things of that nature?"

Master Windu waved a hand, muttering, "I shouldn't be surprised she didn't stick to _any_ part of the code."

"Celibacy isn't a mandate," commented Qui-Gon, bemused.

Obi-Wan was... a little surprised to feel a flicker of jealousy, but let it go. While he had cherished her memory, he wasn't exactly a blushing virgin either.

"I would like Yoda's support however when I do try to go about repairing her recent mental trauma," said Healer Che, "As I implied earlier, delving into a darksider's mind is generally not safe. However, I will mention that this is not to be a breech of her privacy nor an attempt to pry into her memories. Mending _only_."

"Mmm," murmured Yoda, "Finish healing her body, you will, then attempt her mind, we shall."

Obi-Wan watched quietly as Healer Che and Bant, methodically went about tending to Siri, clothing her in a medical gown when they were done. Yoda hobbled over and jumped onto a chair, reaching a hand to brush against Siri's forehead, a sad look on his old face. He settled a gnarled claw on the side of her forehead as Healer Che put on on the back of her head. For a few minutes, all Obi-Wan could feel was a subtle stirring of the Force.

And then a frown appeared across Healer Che's face. "Is that a compulsion?"

Yoda staggered and fall off the chair, and Healer Che stumbled away, crying out in surprise as a brief spike of the Dark Side burst from Siri's mind. The other Jedi in the room tensed, stepping forward, but Che waved them off, wobbling around for a moment before touching the side of her forehead, a soft light emanating before disappearing. Yoda merely shook his head and seemed to overcome whatever had just happened.

"There are compulsions, or at least something that looks like one, in her head," said Che flatly, "Which have mental traps underneath them that spring when touched. That was... some kind of distortion and sensory overload."

She shook her head. "We can't do this, her mind is booby trapped to an insane degree if the amount of compulsions, or bait look-alikes, are any indication. It's not safe for anyone but Siri herself to go into her own mind. She's going to have to do this herself at some point."

"She is going to be placed in a Force Suppressant Cell when you are done here," said Master Windu, "She won't have the chance to for some time I imagine."

"Then she's going to have to deal with it for the time being," said Healer Che firmly, "I am not going to risk mental damage to myself or anyone else who may try to go in and help her. She has compartmentalized the damaged area, so it can wait."

Obi-Wan swallowed, not liking the implications coming to mind. "Are they compulsions? Or just traps? And if traps... why are they shaped in a way that makes them appear to be compulsions?"

Healer Che shook her head. "I'm not sure on either question. She has to have an understanding of what a compulsion is and how to make them to be able to shape her traps like that, so either she's practiced making them, picked one apart within her own mind, or perhaps both. The sheer amount of these traps though suggests paranoia against someone in her head. Considering the trace presences of there having been others in her mind multiple times, perhaps not quite paranoia, and more like a line of defense. There is also the possibility, that since the traps do not trigger until they are touched, they are meant to fake looking like a compulsion in order to deceive someone checking on them. It would be a logical conclusion to say she has most likely suffered one or more compulsions being put in her mind before."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, struggling with the possibilities: Does she have compulsions in her head now? If she had them in her head in the past, how many? What was she forced, or manipulated, into doing? How long were they in her head before they were discovered? What were the long-term consequences for her, in what happened to her or what she did? It leaves him all kinds of anxious that he has to take a moment to continually release the emotion into the Force.

"Force," whispered Bant, "Why would she live in such an environment, why not get out? Seek help? She would have been safe in the Temple if she had come to us!"

"Assumptions, help us will not," said Yoda, waving his stick through the air, "Ask her, we will, if open about her past, she chooses to become."

Yoda looked at Siri with a mixture of grief and sorrow, sadness. "If nothing else there is, Healer Che, then take her to her cell, we will."

"No, that's as much as I can do for the time being," answered the healer.

With that, a hoverstretcher was retrieved, Siri levitated onto it and unhooked from the IV of sedatives, and she was taken down into the bowls of the Jedi Temple.

Obi-Wan shivered as they entered one of the cells, losing the sensation of the Force in the air, through his body, the loss of access to it, before they placed Siri down on a thin bunk-like bed. "These rooms are... unpleasant."

"That is putting it mildly padawan mine," muttered Qui-Gon, hastily making for the doorway.

Obi-Wan glanced back and forth between Siri and the doorway before coming to a decision. "I think I'll wait in here for her to wake up, give her a familiar face, and explain her situation to her."

"That can be done from outside the cell, Padawan Kenobi," said Mace in the doorway.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I'm not going to have her suffer the cell alone and stare at her from the outside in."

Master Windu frowned for a moment, exchanging glances with Plo Koon and Yoda before sighing, "Call for a guard when you are ready to leave then, Padawan Kenobi. Be mindful that she is dangerous, and it takes time to deactivate the Force Field at the entrance and get into the cell."

Obi-Wan nodded and moved to settle down against the wall opposite to the bed, staring silently at Siri's unconscious form, wondering how in the world he was going to go about getting her out of the Darkness she was swallowed by...


	25. The Guide (Part 1)

The first thing Siri notes, even before she's fully awake, is the lack of the Force. It jolts her awake in a panic, breathing raggedly, gasping as if she's choking. She can't feel it, she can't feel it! She claws at her neck, her arms… and then there's hands stopping her.

"Siri! Calm down!"

It's Obi-Wan's voice.

She blinks rapidly, adjusting to the dimly lit room, her chest rising and falling slower and slower. Obi-Wan is kneeling in front of her, clutching her shaking limbs. Siri looks around, shes dressed in a light medical wing gown, there's nothing in here but a bed that she's on, a forcefield as a door, and a very small fresher tied to the… the Force Suppressant Cell she's in.

"I'm in the Temple," she states flatly.

"Yes."

"Home sweet home," she mutters bitterly.

Obi-Wan lets go of her arms and sat down next to her. "Sorry, the Council didn't want to take any chances."

She shook her head. "It's nothing I didn't expect if I was ever found and captured."

Then her eyes narrow and rage spikes. "I know why I'm in here, but why did they throw you in with me? You've done nothing wrong!"

He smiled mirthlessly. "I asked to be in here."

She blanks. "You what?"

"I asked to be in here," he answers again, "Figured you could use the company."

She just stared at him.

His smile turned self-depreciating. "…and I want to convince you to turn away from the Dark Side."

She sighs. "Obi-Wan… I've been through this dance and song before."

"And I heard you came close," said Obi-Wan, sitting down on the bed next to her.

She had... before Ur Manka had betrayed her. She said nothing though, merely looking down at her hands silently. Sidious had never instructed her on what to do in the situation the Jedi captured her. She had little to no knowledge about dealing with Force suppression. Probably because he would have used it against her had she been to unruly. Zannah had briefly mentioned once that there were techniques to escape Force Binders, to resist Force suppressing concoctions, but an entire cell was a completely different matter. She... wasn't getting out of here unless the Jedi let her out.

"Siri... what happened on that mission?" asked Obi-Wan, "After we separated to look for Tally?"

Siri looked away from him for a moment. Does she tell him? Does it matter? It was a long time ago for her...

"Master Galia and I... discovered Tally being abducted by a hooded figure, he leaped on a speeder, we gave chase," she said, shrugging, "We followed him back to his ship and confronted him. Turned out he was Force Sensitive, thought he was a Dark Jedi. He took Master Galia by surprise, got a hit on her shoulder and disabled her dominate arm. We fought..."

She trailed off, an image of her Master shoving her aside and taking the lethal low. "I was weak. I got her killed."

Obi-Wan frowned. "Siri, you can't blame yourself for..."

"You weren't there!" she snarled, "You... you didn't see how pitiful I was! She..."

Siri's hands trembled. "She pushed me aside, she was run through..."

"She died for you," he said softly, in a gentle, sad wonder, "There is nothing greater a Master can do for their Padawan then to give their life for them."

The anger, the rage, and the hate that surges forth from the memory aren't unexpected. Its the lack of a familiar spike of power, of the Dark Side, that throws her off. Leaves her floundering to the surprise ache of grief and sadness, emotions she hadn't felt for that memory in so long. It takes her completely offguard. She's left with ragged breathing, tears in her eyes, and the pain of loss so acute it was overwhelming.

"Siri?"

"No Force," she rasps, her voice shaking.

There is no Dark Side to smother those weaker, pitiful emotions.

Not even the brief light Ur Manka had given her years ago to release her pain into.

Just memory, and raw feeling. How... how did Force Nulls deal with this? She curled a little, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "I need the Dark... I don't want to feel this..."

Obi-Wan laid a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "Siri... have you never grieved for her?"

"Once," she whispered, "When I was with Master Ur Manka. But... I had other things to struggle with than an old memory."

"I don't understand," he said, "How could you not feel that for so long? Not release it..."

"The Dark Side," she snarled, "Does not release emotions! It uses them, and it especially keeps such _weak_ emotions at bay! Grief, sadness, such sensations have no use to a Sith except to use against others."

Obi-Wan's hand fled her shoulder, and it was like a sudden patch of cold where it had been. "It... suppresses them?"

Siri just growls under her breath and stands, pacing the cell, trying to find a way to beat back what she feels. She has always had the Force's assistance, light or dark, in doing this. It's always been there, affecting her one way or another. She feels a bit floundered without it, but like hell will she let it beat her. She pushed at the feeling, the roil of her stomach, forcing it away through stubborn force of will.

"Siri?"

She closed her eyes as she paced, though kept her rotation short without the Force to sense if she was about to walk into something. Emotions were power, if they could not be used at the moment, they would be stored. Except she couldn't funnel them to draw out later without the Force, so they were just emotions. Normal people could still use their emotions for strength, she had seen desperation draw out amazing reserves in some of the beings she had killed. She could recall having drove her lightsaber through a target's chest once, only to have them still push on and stab her right back with a vibroblade out of pure spite and hate to take her down with them.

She just had to figure out how to use them without the Force, and not let them drag her down.

"Could you explain that?"

She opened her eyes and blinked at him. "Why? You already told me you have no interest in embracing the Dark Side."

"I have no desire to fall," he agreed, "But I have an academic interest in knowing how it affects you."

"Fall," mused Siri, "Is such a crude, barbaric thing, and nothing I would intend for you."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Why would I let you _fall_ , Obi-Wan?" she purred, a twisted smile crossing her face, "You can get hurt doing something so uncontrolled. Why let you fall off a cliff into the dark, when I could guide you down the shadowed path instead?"

Her eyes watched Obi-Wan reflexively lean back into the wall beside the bed, as if to scoot farther way from her. "A fall is a horrific, terrifying thing Obi-Wan. Filled with pain and loss as you finally embrace your true power. There are much better ways I think that embracing the Dark Side could be done."

It was strange. Seeing that nervousness, that fear, and not being able to feed off it for power. It must be doubly strange to Obi-Wan, because he's in here too, he can't release his emotions to the Force at the moment. Though, being a Jedi would give him practice at keeping calm, which would help him in this situation. That fear though... for once, she doesn't like it. She doesn't like him being afraid of her, not after he confessed his feelings.

She watches him steel himself, and then he speaks, "Do you regret yours?"

Siri's fists tightened. "I never had a choice in mine."

"There's always a choice...," began Obi-Wan.

"Is there?" she snarled, "Is there really, Kenobi? I was facing down a Dark Jedi, a young Sith Apprentice in reality, who had just killed my Master, who toyed with us. I was a complete emotional mess, I had no control anymore, and he..."

She looked away, thinking but not saying ' _He threatened to kill you, to make you watch as your master died as I had_ '. She didn't think Obi-Wan would do well in realizing she had... well... in a way kind of fallen to the Dark Side for him. She was angry with him... but she didn't want to hurt him, and the truth would wound him deeply. He... he admitted to loving her, and she would never again raise a hand to him to inflict pain. He was hers... and she never wanted to see his face twisting in pain again...

Pain that she had inflicted on him.

She hissed at the regret that bombarded her, sneering at him and diverting both him and her from that moment. "It turns out, Obi-Wan, if you kill a Sith Apprentice through falling, you automatically qualify for the job, and if you decline, you die."

Obi-Wan blinked. "You killed a Sith?"

"Sidious's first apprentice, Maul," spat Siri, "A _beast_. He was my favorite and most treasured kill. I won't likely find a more satisfying one unless I kill Sidious."

"So you chased Tally, Maul killed Master Galia, and... you fell to kill him," said Obi-Wan slowly, "Followed by, I'm assuming, Darth Sidious kidnapping you and forcing you to be his apprentice?"

Siri scoffed. "Forced is such a strong word Obi-Wan. As you said, there was always a choice. I could have refused, he..."

Would have tracked down and killed all of her friends from the temple... killed Obi-Wan...

"...would have either kept torturing me until I agreed, or until he got sick of waiting and just killed me," said Siri, memories of that time in that cell...

That cell...

Siri threw back her head and she laughed. "Oh the irony."

Obi-Wan gave her a blank look.

"When Sidious abducted me, he threw me into a cell and tortured me until I agreed to become his apprentice," she said with dark amusement, ignoring Obi-Wan's grimace, "When the Jedi abducted me, they threw me into a Force Suppressant Cell which is basically torture for a Force Sensitive, until I assume I agree to serve them. The irony is not lost on me."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I'm not sure capturing a dangerous prisoner is quite the same as abducting a lost and struggling Padawan. The cell is to make sure you can't hurt others, and we want to help you, not force you into service."

"Semantics," she said dismissively.

"It's really not," said Obi-Wan mildly.

"Unless I agree to try to go back to the light, to the Jedi, I know I'm not ever getting out of here," she said flatly, "Don't mince words Kenobi. Its the same now as it was then. Convert or die, or at least spend the rest of my life in a cell."

Or until Sidious destroys the Jedi, drags her ass out of this cell, and kills her for her failure. She can't even imagine the rage he must feel at the moment, to have had his yellow-eyed Sith Apprentice, and lost her within five minutes time. He'd make her death slow and painful.

"It's all my life's ever been," she said bitterly, "I'm not ignorant. Jedi or Sith, I was indoctrinated and trained in their ways, a servant to a master. Whether a compliant, dutiful padawan to Master Galia, or a slave of an Apprentice to Sidious, I haven't been free a day in my life."

"Indoctrinated?" he said, incredulous, "The Jedi..."

"Take children as infants and raise them from the ground up to be Jedi," she said flatly, "So yes, indoctrination. The Jedi and the Sith aren't that different Obi-Wan, they just go about the same things in different and conflicting ways. Case in point being Sith will take an older apprentice, and aren't afraid to poach from the Jedi."

Yeah, they _really_ weren't afraid to do that. Exar Kun, Revan, Ulic Qel-Droma, ect... Siri was just the latest in a _very_ long line.

"I beg to differ."

"Then differ, I don't care," she said dismissively, "Now get up and out of my bed."

Obi-Wan did, and she laid down, staring up at the ceiling silently.

"Do you mind, if I tell the council what you told me about the mission with Tally?" he asked.

She scoffed. "You're their interrogator, you're going to tell them anyway."

"I am not," he said firmly, "I will only tell them things you give me permission to, or that have immediate dire consequences."

She rolled her eyes. "You're going to pull Good Jedi Bad Jedi on me? Really?"

"I'm not pulling anything Siri, I mean it," he said again, and her eyes washed over him. There was not a hint of lying, but a Jedi's calm facade would allow him to hide that. Not to mention she didn't have the Force to sense for a lie, still...

"Even if I believed that," she drawled, "This is an advanced prison cell for dangerous Force Sensitive. If there aren't cameras and microphones in it, I might die of shock."

At that, Obi-Wan blanked. "Oh. That... might be a good point. I'll bring it up, and if there are any microphones, have them removed. I doubt they'd agree to removing cameras though."

She scoffed. "Right, sure. Even if by chance you are telling the truth, the Council won't allow that."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "We'll see."

They lapsed into silence, Siri pursing her lips and just staring up at the ceiling. Force, she wished Zannah was here to chat with at least. Then again... would a Holocron even work in a Force Suppressant Cell? That was a logic conundrum to think about...

"So... what happened next?"

Siri sighed. "Go away Obi-Wan."

"Maybe later," he answered, sitting down against the opposing wall, "If you don't want to talk about your past, I can bring you up to speed on whats happened here at home."

"Oh joy, Jedi gossip and the Temple rumor mill," drawled Siri, glancing over at him.

And seeing a flash of... something, pain, irritation, resignation. "Yes, the rumor mill."

She rolled onto her side, studying him for a moment. There was honest negativity from him, interesting. Lets see where this led to..., "Alright then, lets hear it."

"Well... that mission was a disaster, to say plainly," said Obi-Wan, "My Master and I got six months of censure for our troubles..."

"You _**WHAT**_?" she exploded, bolting to a sitting position and clenching the ends of the bed tightly, "That's kriffing stupid! You weren't responsible for what happened!"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "A Council Member and her promising padawan had just been killed, supposedly. There was plenty of blame to go around and both Qui-Gon and I were there to take it."

Her rage surges at the thought of it... of Obi-Wan being unnecessarily punished, blamed for her own death, reputation torn apart, the rumor mill in terrible motion...

...and then there was, yet again, no familiar spike of power or the Dark Side in response. She snarled a bit and clenched her fists in frustration, in yearning for that familiar dark rush. It sent a viscous shiver, a craving, for it that she could not sate. She didn't like this, at all. She was in her first hour of conscious captivity, and it was already trying at her. She swallowed at the thought months, years, potentially her entire life, being spent in this room.

Then again, being cut off from the Force but not severed from it for the long term had potentially dangerous side effects for a Force Sensitive. She wondered if she'd go mad from being coped up in here, or from the lack of the Force, either she supposed depended on her will. She considered if the Jedi even knew about that. Then again, they had these cells, they had been used in the far past. Or maybe they just chalked up any side effects to being caused by the Dark Side, who knows. Perhaps they didn't care, used it as a form of punishment.

Self-Righteous bastards, the lot of them.

"Are you okay Siri?" asked Obi-Wan.

She blinked at him. "Do you always ask stupid questions Obi-Wan?"

"Some of the time?"

She snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. "When did you stop being to stuck up and stingy?"

"Sometime after Qui-Gon corrupted me with his maverick ways," mused Obi-Wan, "Terrible influence, that Master Jinn."

Siri frowned a bit and laid back down, thinking about how much Obi-Wan's master meant to him, the pain and anticipatory loss Obi-Wan had felt when Siri had been about to kill Master Jinn... "Sidious wants Qui-Gon dead, specifically."

Obi-Wan's breath hitched. "Is... that why you were involved in the Blockade of Naboo?"

"No, Sidious has some reason for the blockade, never told me, I was just to get the Queen to sign the treaty, you and Jinn were bonus. I was to kill Qui-Gon to get at Dooku, and kill you as... as my final test," she said.

Obi-Wan frowned intently. "Get at my Grandmaster?"

Siri turned her head, eyebrow raised. "You almost sound fond of him."

"I _am_ fond of him," said Obi-Wan matter of factually, "When he wasn't chasing off after you, he spent a lot of time with us. While I prefer Ataru, he taught me a bit of Makashi."

Siri groaned. "Great, so that surprise wouldn't have worked on you either."

"Nobody expects Makashi," teased Obi-Wan, "Not even someone who uses it."

She blew a raspberry at him before frowning, "But... Dooku hadn't had anything to do with you or Qui-Gon since your apprenticeship started."

Obi-Wan shrugged, a self-depreciated smile crossing his face. "I was in... well... a rut, after you apparently died, and it reminded Qui-Gon enough of his own grief over Master Tahl to make him spiral into his own. We were miserable together, and apparently that was enough to have Yoda twist Dooku's arm into visiting us, and well, Dooku ended up being a rather welcome addition to our lives."

There was a part of Siri that purred with pleasure, of Obi-Wan having grieved for her 'death'. There was another that was sad, for him to have suffered that pain. The final part..., "You two are terrible with attachments."

Obi-Wan only smiled sheepishly in response at that, ducking his head.

Siri... enjoyed watching him like that. Seeming actually happy, not a Jedi's unnatural calm. She didn't want it ruined... and Dooku falling would ruin it. "Dooku has spent to much time alone chasing shadows, especially ones that Sidious had me leave for him. Qui-Gon's death would have been meant to push him into leaving the Order and leaving him ripe for the picking."

Obi-Wan's smile vanished in an instant, a heavy, if but bewildered frown crossing his face. "What use would he have of a Jedi Master? Even _if_ Dooku left the Order?"

Oh poor Obi-Wan... so deluded; she thumbed herself, "What use would Sidious have for a Jedi Padawan, fallen or not?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Dooku wouldn't fall."

"You don't listen Kenobi," Siri growled, flashing teeth, before tilting her head away, "I'm giving you the courtesy of warning you that Sidious has been watching your Grandmaster for a very long time. The least you could do is actually take my warning seriously, because I sure as hell don't have to tell you a damn thing."

Obi-Wan's frown hadn't left his face. "If you had killed Qui-Gon, and I had lived, Dooku probably would have taken up my apprenticeship rather than leave, for however little it lasted. Even if... if we both had died, he would have set out to destroy the Sith, not join them."

"Obi-Wan," she said irritably, was he this ignorant? We're all Jedi this ignorant? "I _**HATE** _ Sidious, I want nothing more than to kill him. Hating the Sith and wanting to destroy them doesn't stop you from being able to join them. To work with them and be converted to their cause over time. I know from _experience_."

There was an ill look to Obi-Wan's face. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before standing up. "Alright... I... need to go see the Council, and see if they can get my Grandmaster back here. He was apparently looking into your underworld connections as an angle to locate you."

Siri growled. "He had best have stayed away from my favorites."

"You have favorites?"

Alexi and Mighella flashed through her mind. "Just because I'm a Sith doesn't mean I can't like people and prefer their company."

Though, now that Obi-Wan actually admitted he loved her... she probably wouldn't be ending up in Alexi's bed anymore, if she ever got out of here. Hell, she'd probably have to threaten him to never _EVER_ mention it aloud. She'd cut his dick off if he ever even hinted to Obi-Wan that he and her had slept together. That... was an awkward sequence of thoughts...

She frowned a bit; she was not ignorant of how she was reacting to him, how her thoughts had shifted. Ironically enough... she thought she'd probably be acting more aggressive _for_ him, more possessive _of_ him, a _Jedi_ , if she had the Dark Side right now. She's... not comfortable with how open she feels towards Obi-Wan...

It left her distinctly uncomfortable to have something feel more important than killing Sidious. Or at least comparable to that desire.

Obi-Wan was studying her for a moment before turning to the entrance of the cell. "I'll be back in a bit."

She watched as he called for the guards, wondering if he was really that trusting that he wouldn't make for the door-

Oh.

She smiled a little, annoyed, as a second forcefield activated a few feet in front of the first before that one shut down, allowing Obi-Wan to step forward, and then the forcefields switched again. A double-lock. It really sunk in... she wasn't going anywhere...

Suddenly, the cell seemed to grow a lot smaller.

And she wished Obi-Wan hadn't left...

* * *

Obi-Wan kept his face masked with passiveness, and his arms folded into his robes, as he finished giving Siri's very brief description of that mission eight years ago and her warnings about Dooku to the Council. There was an air of skepticism... but not on Yoda's face.

Yoda was honestly, and _openly_ , worried about Dooku. "Mmm. Fear this, I did. Recall my padawan through emergency frequencies, we will. Know that found dark artifacts and writings while chasing Tachi, he did."

Obi-Wan swallowed, hard. He _hadn't_ been aware of that, Grandmaster was keeping secrets from him and Qui-Gon, secrets that could destroy him. "So she's not lying in the slightest then. This 'Sidious' want's Dooku."

"Did she imply why?" asked Master Windu.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. I was... a little in denial over it and didn't dig into it."

He broke his stance to reach a hand up and rub his face. "The Sith are corruptive of everything."

"Then be mindful in your... sessions... with the Sith," said Master Windu, "There is no need to lose you to them as well."

Obi-Wan gave him a very unimpressed look. "I'll manage."

"She is more cooperative than I thought she would be," mused Master Piell, "Frankly, I wasn't expecting anything that wasn't a lie or deception for months, if that."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "She wasn't being cooperative. We argued mostly. She... thought that old mission didn't matter much to her anymore when she gave into that request, and did me a courtesy telling me about Dooku."

Plo Koon tilted his head. "A courtesy?"

Obi-Wan smiled a little, sadly. "I give it a few days at most before she learns to manage herself under Force suppression, but she's a bit open in her tells right now. She told me because I care about my Grandmaster."

"Attachment," mused Plo Koon, "She'd betray her Master's plans simply because you care about Master Dooku?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Yeah."

"You don't seemed surprised by this?" inquired Plo Koon.

"She's not loyal to Sidious," said Obi-Wan flatly, "Firmly seduced to the Dark Side, yes. Loyal perhaps to the Sith ideology in general, yes. But to Sidious? No. She firmly hates him."

"Then why act against him, has she not?" asked Yaddle.

"She's afraid of him, I think," said Obi-Wan slowly, "She said, back on Naboo, that I have no concept of just how powerful he is. She said she was _decades_ away from being able to face and kill him. If she acted now, he'd just have killed her..."

He trailed off, frowning. "I'm probably missing something in all of this, I feel that I am. I've barely had an hour to talk to her so far, there's so much I don't know, and what I have learned thus far... is troubling."

"Yes, you haven't given in full detail a report of everything said," said Master Windu, prompting.

"And I'm not going to," said Obi-Wan, tilting his chin up a bit, "I promised her I would ask her permission before I say anything to specific, and I meant it. And on that note, if there are any microphones in that cell, please disable them."

The Council went dead silent.

"Padawan Kenobi...," began Master Windu, a scowl on his face a extreme disapproval in his voice.

"If I can't get her to trust me, if I can't earn that from her, she will stay lost," said Obi-Wan firmly, "You cannot touch the light without trust, and if she cannot trust, then she will never walk away from the Dark Side."

Yoda looked at him thoughtfully, "In what you say, truth there is. But report your progress, you still must."

"I can allow overviews," said Obi-Wan carefully, "And my thoughts in certain general matters, like something she revealed about the Dark Side to me earlier."

"Which is what exactly?" said Master Windu, eyes narrowed on him, "What is she ' _teaching_ ' you?"

"It wasn't teaching," Obi-Wan answered flatly before clearing his throat.

"She implied that the Dark Side suppresses what she called 'weak' emotions, such as grief and sadness. I've taken the liberty of assuming that applies to regret, guilt, and things of that nature," said Obi-Wan thoughtfully, "She seemed rather taken offguard when she felt them in the cell without the Dark Side there to block them."

"You consider this important?" asked Master Windu.

Obi-Wan _stared_ at him. "Of course it is important, it's incredibly important. I had no clue the Dark Side works like that. Frankly, I know next to nothing about it, aside that anger, hate, suffering, and things of that nature lead to it, empower it. I don't know if its like that for everyone who touches it, or just her. But its a piece in understanding why the fallen stay fallen."

"Knowledge of the Dark Side is tightly guarded and restricted," said Master Windu firmly, "And for a reason."

"I understand that, and agree somewhat," said Obi-Wan, "But having little to no understanding of it _academically_ leaves one uncertain on how to deal with it outside of a lightsaber."

He sighed. "I want to understand why and how she fell, I think she didn't tell me the whole story there. I want to understand how she was pulled into the Sith, why she didn't bolt the moment she had the opportunity to. What drew her in and kept her there..."

He trailed off briefly, "...what happened with Master Ur Manka. How she nearly came back, how that failed, how she ended up back with Sidious. How she became so entrenched into the Dark Side, and... and what happened on Naboo, that moment her eyes turned yellow and it felt like she had become something else. That... more than anything else, needs to be dealt with. She cannot ever become that lost again, I don't know if I could pull her back a second time. I need to know and understand everything I can in order to help her break free and stay free of it."

"Mmm," mused Yoda, slow and drawn out, "A long path, will you walk. Difficult this trial will be, for you, for Tachi. Dangerous, it may be. Talk to your Master, or a Mind Healer, you will, once a week at least, no less."

"If I feel in over my head, I will pull back and give myself space to think and deal with what I learn," agreed Obi-Wan.

Yoda grunted. "Agree with you, the Council will. So long as brief us, communicate, you do, refrain from recording, disabled any listening device in the cells shall be. For your safety, cameras will remain."

Obi-Wan didn't get the feeling Siri would hurt him, not anymore. But he didn't voice the thought, he doubted they would listen to it. He merely bowed his head. "Thank you, Counselors."

Master Windu seemed disgruntled by Yoda speaking for them all, and asked, "Is there anything else you learned thus far that you would consider acceptable to share?"

Obi-Wan grinned a little. "She wasn't anymore impressed with my and my Master's sixth month censure than we were."

"Hmph, impudence," said Yoda, waving his stick.

Then Obi-Wan frowned, uncertain. "Her views and comparisons between the Jedi and the Sith I'll need to figure out how to address."

"That's preposterous," snapped Master Windu, "Comparisons?"

Obi-Wan twitched uncomfortably. "She said that both Orders use indoctrination."

Exasperation filled the room, and Obi-Wan had the sense that this argument was something the Jedi Order as a whole was used to.

"It is the choice of the parent to give up their child, it is against our mandates to force them to baring extreme circumstances where the child's life is in danger," said Master Windu, "And any Jedi, should they so wish, is free to leave the Jedi Order and find a new life for themselves. No one is forced to stay."

Obi-Wan tilts his head in acknowledgement, but doesn't verbally respond. He thinks about it, and doesn't like the bitterness Siri showed. The words ' _I haven't been free a day in my life_ ' echo in his mind, because she firmly believes that, he didn't need the Force to feel that. He considers that a Jedi knows nothing else, why would they ever want to leave? Why is it considered such a crushing failure to not become a Jedi Knight, to end up in the Service Corps? Leaving the Jedi Order has a stigma, and anyone saying otherwise isn't doing anyone a favor. He doesn't think the Jedi Order does this deliberately, its not malicious, not like the Sith or other Dark Side sects at least. Its their culture, a way of life. Whether its indoctrination or not... that's really up to the individual he supposes.

"I don't think there's anything else relevant," and not personal, "To speak of at the moment, it was just a quick session."

"Then may the Force be with you, Padawan Kenobi," said Plo Koon, the rest echoing, and Obi-Wan echoing back, before leaving the room...


	26. The Guide (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, The Guide is going to probably be the longest multi-part section in the book. We're in for the long haul here boyz n gals.

Obi-Wan brought food back with him, so Siri figured she'd get fed whenever he came. She doubted anyone else would come in for fear of the dreaded, terrible, Sith cooties. She snickered a little, earning a raised eyebrow from Kenobi, but she waved it off. What was Siri, a Sith Holocron? She didn't naturally have that effect, but all the better anyway. Because frankly, she didn't want to have to deal with any other Jedi. She doubted she'd find them tolerable in the slightest. Obi-Wan was already going to be irritating enough, she wouldn't be able to stand anyone else preaching the light and bemoaning the Dark Side. She'd probably try to strangle them.

Hmm...

She hadn't strangled a Jedi to death with her bare hands yet.

Tempting...

"I'm not sure I like that smile on your face."

She glanced over at Obi-Wan eating off a tray on the floor. "Good intentions, I swear."

He gave her a dubious look. She merely snickered again and popped a piece of fruit into her mouth. She finished her tray and haphazardly tossed it towards the door, earning a reproachful look from Obi-Wan. She rolled her eyes and laid back down on her bed, hands under her head.

"Tell me about the Dark Side."

She was briefly, and uncomfortably, reminded of Master Ur Manka asking that question; she hid her unease with a snort. "Obi-Wan, you realize just what that question sounds like, right?"

He made a face. "I'm not interested in turning. I want to know what it does to a person, how it effects them. What is it like to you?"

Siri didn't answer, at least, not right away. She's learned so much more since Ur Manka, there is much she could tell him. Yet... she doesn't feel what she felt back on Naboo, the desire, the urge, the craving, to turn Obi-Wan. To mold him, shape him, make him belong more to her, make him like her. She supposes that's an active effect of the Dark Side, because right about now, she doesn't want Obi-Wan anywhere near, let alone using, the Dark Side. There's to much pain on that path, to much sacrifice and suffering. All in the name of...

"Power," she said, "It's power."

He rolled his eyes. "Isn't that what all darksiders say?"

She turned her head and snarled at him, "If you ask me a question, _Obi-Wan_ , I expect you to listen to the damn answer, not brush it off!"

He tensed as she sat up and shifted, planting her feet off the bed and on the floor, staring coldly at him. "The Dark Side is power, at a price."

Obi-Wan's eyes furrowed. "And what is that price?"

She smiled. It wasn't a pleasant, happy, or silly smile. It was grim. "Everything. The more you give up to the Dark Side, the stronger you will be."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a minute, mulling over her answer. "If you give everything to the Dark Side, what does that leave you Siri?"

Her lips peeled back into a sneer. "I'm not stupid Obi-Wan. It leaves you with _nothing._ "

"Then why would you want that?" he asked, incredulous.

"If the price be my soul, my reputation, my very life," she said, "Then I'd gladly pay it to kill Sidious. I made that bargain a long time ago, that I'd damn myself as deeply as I needed to in order to kill him."

"And whats the point if you just end up replacing him!" he countered.

"Aside from the fact he'd be dead?" she said, shrugging, "Would I have been as bad as he was? Who knows."

"It's not worth it," he said quietly, pleading, "It's not worth it Siri, you were _gone_ for those few minutes on Naboo."

Gone is not quite how she would describe...what had happened there... but she merely shrugged. "No one would care."

"I would Siri," he said, and her stomach twisted, "I felt like I lost you all over again for those few minutes."

Her lips went tightly sealed, not trusting herself to say anything.

"Lets say you killed Sidious, and answer honestly, what then?" asked Obi-Wan.

She drawled out, "Taken over the Galaxy and forced it to get its shit together. It's a kriffing mess. I think I'd have made a great Empress, better than Sidious."

"Take over the galaxy," he said flatly.

"Ha, disbeliever," she teased, before her face turned _hungry_ , "What do you think you do with power? With control? You gain it over yourself, then another, then a group, an order, a world, a species, a group of species, and then the galaxy itself."

Obi-Wan... looked a little ill. "Is that... that sounds like a reciting. Is that something the Sith teach you?"

Siri smiled sharply, sidestepping the question, her voice dangerous, "You look _spooked_ Obi-Wan, you sure you want me to continue?"

"Unsettled, not spooked," denied Obi-Wan, "I really don't think I'm going to like anything you tell me."

"You won't," she promised, "But I don't want to overwhelm your feeble little Jedi mind with to much in one day."

"Ass."

She barked a laugh. "I should get me, you, Alexi, and Mighella in one room with drinks. I think it would turn out _marvelously_."

She didn't know how she would possibly get it done, but she decided that was going to be a life goal for herself at the moment. _A Sith, a criminal mastermind, a nightsister witch, and a Maverick Jedi walk into a bar..._

"I don't know who they are, but I'm going to be safe and assume it would end in absolute disaster."

She snickered. "I'd record it to watch later for laughs."

"Jedi really shouldn't get drunk."

"Not a Jedi," she singsonged, forcibly ignoring the brief flash of grief across Obi-Wan's face, "Besides, you have the Force, you can purge the effects of alcohol pretty quick."

"That's really not an excuse to be irresponsible."

"Oh posh, live a little," she mocked, "Force knows you Jedi live to much for others and not yourselves."

"It's a hard life," said Obi-Wan quietly.

"And a Sith's isn't?" she scoffed, "I'd say its a hundred times more rough."

"That so?" The tone wasn't mocking. It was honestly curious, if but uneasy that the question was asked.

Her stomach grew so twisted at that simple question. It disgusted her. She had adjusted to Sith training ages ago. Just because she didn't have the Dark Side anymore, she shouldn't feel so... weak at the knees at the thought of it, should have been numbed to it. She was weirdly offbalanced by all of this... by his damnable pestering questions.

She wanted Obi-Wan here.

But at the same time she didn't.

Siri growled a little under her breath, growing agitated, deciding on wanting him gone.. "I killed over a hundred people in my first month when Sidious weaned me off Jedi mercy and taught me to murder, to be numb to it. Does that answer your question, _Jedi_?"

She spoke it with ice cold hardness; and judging by the utter horror on Obi-Wan's face, he didn't doubt her. Good, Sith training wasn't fairy tales, it was a horror story from start to finish. She wanted to scare him away, get him to leave her alone for the time being. She hadn't however expected the explosive and massive barrage of guilt that suddenly incapacitated her, robbing her of breath as she sat there. It was like a bottomless screaming chasm had opened up, threatening to swallow her whole, that she couldn't escape without the Dark Side to beat it back.

"I... I need to go," stammered Obi-Wan, face so pale he looked deathly ill as he rushed for the entrance to the room.

No...

No no no no...

Don't go...

_Don't leave me..._

She couldn't manage to speak, let alone breath, watching as Obi-Wan waited for the room's forcefields to cycle out, and fled. Siri shook, uncontrollable, her face slowly turning blue, until she pitched forward and smacked her forehead into the floor. The spike of pain snapped her body out of its lock, and she took in a rasping, agonizing breath...

And screamed.

* * *

Obi-Wan slumped on Qui-Gon's couch, aimlessly watching his Master teach Anakin Skywalker how to read and write basic. Anakin had briefly looked at him, a little worried, but Qui-Gon had redirected his focus. That was fine, Obi-Wan just... needed a minute. An hour. A lifetime.

Over a hundred people in a month, to break Siri into Sith Training... break her from the Jedi...

Dear Force...

Obi-Wan struggled not to lose his food, not to heave and heave and heave. Nausea didn't even begin to describe it. He was a Senior Padawan, had even been caught in a war or two. He hadn't killed a hundred people in his entire life, let alone the one month of soul-killing madness Darth Sidious had afflicted on Siri. Obi-Wan could barely release his emotions to the Force fast enough to not lose absolute control of them. He was faintly sure, by the discomfort radiating off of Anakin, and the hints of it from Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan's shields weren't doing so good.

_Go back to her..._

"Is something the matter Obi-Wan?" asked Qui-Gon without looking up.

"If I ever find Sidious, I'll kill him, Jedi mercy be damned," was all Obi-Wan could say, his voice shaking, not with anger or hate of Sidious, just pure raw grief and regret for Siri.

Qui-Gon's eyes briefly looked up with concern before refocusing on the lesson, "Ah. You learned something uncomfortable from her."

"That puts it far to mildly," said Obi-Wan.

_Go back to her, quickly..._

Obi-Wan silently cursed the Force. He needed space, he need a moment to breath.

"Sorry, I just...," began Obi-Wan.

"Needed a familiar, comforting presence," finished Qui-Gon smoothly, "Its fine. I volunteered to have my doors open if you needed me."

"He just... he forced her to murder so many people," whispered Obi-Wan, "If that memory I saw on Naboo was any indication, innocents who couldn't even fight back."

"So... like a gladiator slave?" asked Anakin, looking up, face not surprised at all, more like thoughtfully curious.

Which was really... really offputting to Obi-Wan. The boy ought to be horrified, not looking like they were talking about the weather. "I wouldn't know."

"There were arenas on Tatooine," said Anakin, shrugging, "They'd pit anyone against anyone. So you killed them, or they killed you, or your Master did if you refused. Didn't matter if they were old folk or little kids."

Obi-Wan swallowed, a horrified look on his face. "And you watched this?"

"Watto bet on the fights," said Anakin, noncommittal, "Dragged me to a few of them with him and-hey!"

Qui-Gon _finally_ lost his composure and swept Anakin into a tight hug. Wondered how long that would take with this kind of topic. That big old softie.

Obi-Wan ran a hand down his face and sighed heavily. Slavery was as much a madness as Sith Apprenticeship was, and Anakin seemed to draw enough parallels between it and slavery it could probably be taken as the same thing.

_Go back to her, now..._

Obi-Wan felt a chill of apprehension at the sharpness from the Force, and stood. "Sorry to bother you, I just needed a moment. I should get back to talking with her."

"You shouldn't force more than you can handle on yourself Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon, a hand offered to allow Obi-Wan to join in and stay.

_Go now._

"I... don't think its me I need to worry about," said Obi-Wan unsteadily, making for the door at a quick pace and all but running for the nearest elevator.

He heard the screams as soon as he entered the cell area and sprinted for her cell. Neither of the temple guards standing outside the cells showed any reaction to the wretched sobs, masked faces firmly forward, not caring about the Sith inside. Obi-Wan took one look in the cell and swore under his breath. Siri was a mess on the floor, arms bloody from clawing at them, her face tear stained and bloodied by its own share of scratch marks. Her eyes were unseeing and wild as she continued to draw blood on herself. She was completely lost in whatever was happening.

He rushed in, ignoring the uncomfortable spike of losing access to the Force, tackling her and pinning her arms down. "Siri **_STOP_**!"

She continued to writhe, losing her breath, screaming without air, silently in denial and horror. He forced her into a sitting position and tightened his arms around her. "Breathe Siri, _breathe_."

Her breathing was labored, as if on a ventilator. Obi-Wan just sat there, holding her firmly, until she finally went limp, her body shaking. "N...ne...need the Dark... need to not feel... I can't... I forgot it was... was like this..."

"Siri... what was that?" he whispered fearfully.

She was still shaking, and tried to pull away, but he merely yanked her back, not letting go. She didn't answer, just leaned back against him, her tremors slowly, very slowly, subsiding. When she finally went still, he gently lifted and laid her on her bed where she curled on herself. He went back to the entrance and called out, "Could one of you get a medical kit, quickly?"

"As you wish, Padawan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan hid a growl under his breath. One of them should have entered and stopped her from hurting herself during that... incident. He didn't say it aloud, but he would be making a note to talk to Master Koon to see if something could be done about that. Probably not though, Obi-Wan... was probably one of the few in the entire temple who would care about Siri. Jedi compassion _his ass_. When he got a kit, he moved to kneel in front of the bed, gently taking Siri's arms, cleaning them, and bandaging them.

Siri's eyes were still unfocused. "Forgot... I forgot..."

"You forgot what Siri?" he asked softly.

"That it was like this," she whispered, "Forgot what happened when Master Ur Manka had me touch the light. How much it **_hurt_**. It's worse now... its so much worse..."

He raised a wetcloth to her cheeks, dabbing and brushing the blood off. "What hurts exactly?"

She turned her head, buried her face in her pillow away from him, and muttered, "Guilt. Don't even have the light to try to release it this time..."

Well... guess that confirmed his suspicions on the Dark Side suppressing guilt. He withheld a wince as he realized what happened. She had intentionally revealed something awful to get him to go away, and inadvertently got hit by the guilt of it without the Dark Side there to keep it at bay. The guilt of over a hundred lives, all killed by her hand, in so short a time, all at once. Obi-Wan didn't know what to do in the face of such a thing.

She deserved compassion.

She deserved condemnation.

More than anything, Obi-Wan wished Sidious were in this cell. Then he'd stab the Sith, a lot. Actually, no, he didn't want that monster's corruptive influence anywhere near Siri ever again. Obi-Wan placed a small patch on both of her cheeks and closed the medkit, tending done. He sat down, leaning back against the bed, a sigh escaping his lips. Force... Siri was completely messed up. Unstable, dangerous, lethal. To herself and to others. Capable of being completely sadistic and malicious one moment, joking and teasing another, then ripped raw by grief. He wasn't sure how to handle these swings.

And Obi-Wan knew this was only going to be the first such incident. She had eight years of service ( _slavery, a voice that sounded like Anakin's whispered_ ) to the Sith. A hundred dead in a month was, sadly, probably only the first in a very long line of atrocities she had committed in Sidious's name. He turned his head to sneak a glance at her; her breathing had evened out, and she seemed to have worn herself down enough to doze off.

Good.

He... really needed time to think and plan what the hell he was supposed to do. On one hand, she was a ruthless Sith Apprentice, on the other, there was still enough of Siri left deep down to actually feel guilt and remorse. He silently cursed the Force for this mess, because no matter what happened in this cell, Siri was never going to be the same Jedi Padawan she had been eight years ago.

He was in way over his head...

Which was hammered in again when an hour later, he had to wake her up from a blood curling screaming nightmare and took a right hook to his face for his troubles, making him see stars and land on his back. "Owww, shesh Siri."

He looks up at her, the rigged, almost childlike fear on her face for a moment, so much sorrow and regret...

Then its instantly closed off, back to that weird teasing and friendly while ready to rip your throat out kind of personality. "Pff. You really shouldn't wake a sleeping Sith, that's all on you."

That vulnerability is still in her eyes though. But its backed by the ferocity of a cornered animal. If he presses now... he wont like the results. "Duly noted."

Siri gets up from the bed, her eyes briefly flickering down to her bandaged arms, there is a viscous self-loathing that shows by the disgusted snarl on her lips and the tightening of her eyes, but doesn't spare them a word. She makes for the fresher. "See yourself out Obi-Wan. Lady needs time to tidy up."

The words are cheerful.

The tone is not.

Its _dangerous_. The last time she had spoken in that manner...

_"What she would have felt is irrelevant. She's dead. She died years ago to a tool that was far weaker than I am. You'll be as dead as she is in a minute, Jedi, and the rest of your kind will follow soon enough."_

...had been shortly before she actually went through with trying to kill Qui-Gon.

She was at the edge of her limit, there had been enough said and done for one day. It was time to _leave_. He had gotten her out of that guilt-fit ( _is that what he should even call that?_ ) that would have opened her veins and killed her; that was enough for the time being. He'd trust the Force to warn him when he was out of the cell if he needed to step in again. He'll be back tomorrow, when she's had a chance to calm herself. He was going to have to be mindful of how much he pushed her, when he needed to back off, when he needed to press. It was going to take a very careful balance.

"Good night Siri," he said, tipping his head.

She didn't respond.

He saw himself out.


	27. The Guide (Part 3)

Sidious sat in his newly taken office as the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. That at least had gone to plan if everything else hadn't. He supposed that was putting it lightly, everything else had failed, _spectacularly_. Amidala was still alive, and if any of the futures he had scryed were to be believed, would become a political nuisance to deal with that he unfortunately couldn't have killed at the moment. Qui-Gon Jinn was still alive, so Dooku was going to become a long-term project rather than short term. He'd have to find a step-in to handle dealing with the Kaminoians and their needed template. Not to mention any other ways the maverick Jedi could interfere in his plans.

Worst yet...

The Jedi had his apprentice, his Sith Apprentice, his Darth Tyrosus. Who he had never even had a chance to lay eyes on, to revel in, to possess and truly own as his legacy. To look into her molten yellow eyes, and find Siri Tachi dead at last. The future he had seen, of her carrying on the line of the Sith, her own apprentice a young mysterious Leia, was in jeopardy. He had finally had his true, Sith Apprentice... and then she had faded away, leaving him furiously baffled as to what had happened. Then he had seen the recordings from Naboo...

The pure, raw, continuous rage he felt left cracks in his heavily-layered shields that he had to consciously mend every few hours for the last few days. The first opportunity he had, he was going to vent his wrath on the misbegotten trash living in the bowls of Coruscant. He finally had an answer to who the Jedi was in his first vision of his apprentice, the Jedi that tried to pull her back into the light. Obi-Wan Kenobi. How _**DARE** _ he. How dare he steal away what belonged to Sidious, to the Dark Side, to the Sith. She had been his! And then yanked back at the absolutely last second. Kenobi wasn't a mere old friend, a potential Sacrifice, he was what had held her back all these years.

Logic dictated he consider her a lost cause, to not waste time lingering, and move on, but that would admit failure in something he had struggled to attain for years, would admit the Jedi had won in regards to her. And that, was intolerable. Sidious growled under his breath. The Jedi would not have what belonged to **_him_**. He did not yet know how he would do it, but he would recover his apprentice. He would punish her as he never had before, make her watch as he stripped Kenobi's flesh from his bones in front of her very eyes, and then with nothing left to hold her back she would finally, firmly, be the Sith she was meant to be.

If all else failed, he could find another apprentice, as much as he was loath to admit defeat. That boy he had briefly seen on Coruscant, Skywalker if the reports from Naboo were right, had potential for example. Now that the boy had started training and actively the Force, he was like a beacon. How Sidious had missed him before, he didn't know. If he were not so invested in Tachi, Skywalker would be a go-to choice. Actually, not leaving himself a backup plan was foolish. It couldn't hurt to put in a request to see the 'Hero of Naboo' who blew up the Trade Federation Ship and 'give his thanks'. He needed to see what he could learn of the boy and his character. If he were lucky, he might get two potential apprentices to pit against one another, now there was an amusing idea.

Regardless, he still had to get his apprentice out of the Temple to have a chance at reclaiming her. How to go about that? The Jedi would not relinquish their hold for nothing short of a Senate order, and even that would be fought against, so how to go about that...

Ah...

A trial perhaps?

Yes... yes... that could work. There was some precedence for having a Force Sensitive taken out of Jedi custody to be put on trial. The Occupation of Naboo could serve as the reason, not to mention some of her more public confrontations with Dooku that resulted in collateral damage. He could potentially take her in transit, or from a cell. If all else failed, there were drugs that could make her seem dead to both sensors and the Force if she was put up for execution, then he could easily spirit her 'corpse' away.

It would take time to set that up however... time Kenobi would use to pry at Tachi.

He had best move quickly...

* * *

Obi-Wan had underestimated Siri.

He had thought it would take her days to gain control of herself while in the Force Suppression Cell. Yet when he walked in the following morning, Siri was laying on her stomach, feet kicking back and forth from the bed into the air, lazing about, calm and collected as could be; if but a bit bored. He stared at her, and she stared back, eye brow raised, making a popping sound with her mouth childishly.

"Good morning Siri," he finally said.

"Good being the relative term," she mused before pouting, "Aww really? You didn't bring me any grub? I'm hurt, you're supposed to bring your girl something to eat when you take them out on a date. Not that a cell is a restaurant, semantics I suppose for a Jedi."

Obi-Wan flushed a little bit at that mixture of poking, flirting, and jabbing; before he went a little sheepish at the main point. "Sorry, this is kinda new for me. I'll bring something back the next time I go and return."

She grinned. "Something tasty perhaps? I love temple mush as good as the next Sith prisoner, but c'mon."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I might get you something from Dex's at some point if it's allowed."

She pouted. "Tsk. Buzzkill. Ah well.

She eyed the entrance briefly. "So tell me, Obi-Wan, are you going to be my only playdate?"

"Playdate," he said mildly before pinching the bridge of his nose when she snickered at him.

She was going to be a test of patience too. Where was the calm if but serious and competitive Padawan he used to know?

"Most likely," he said.

"Oh good," she answered, "Having to hear Jedi preaching virtues at me would get old really fast."

"I could recite the Jedi Code for you if you want," he responded, poking back at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't you dare."

"There is no...," he began.

She shifted, sitting up, grabbing her pillow, and flinging it at him. "None of that Obi-Wan! I will kick you out of this cell!"

He caught the pillow and shook his head in bemusement, tossing it back to the bed. "You've always been a handful Siri."

"Sidious always called me insolent more than anything else," she mused noncommittally, faking indifference, "He was always so fond when he said that."

Though the twitching of her lips might have given away her own thoughts on that matter.

"So there's no one else you'd want to see?" asked Obi-Wan.

Siri made a face. "Not really..."

She frowned. "Maybe Vos, he was fun. I'd love to have a chance to screw with him, but I don't know when he's going to be done with whatever he was doing on Tatooine."

That caught Obi-Wan offguard. "Quinlan was on Tatooine?"

"Mhm," she answered, "One of the reasons I waited to come after you all, didn't know who the Queen was with. It was Quinlan and Aayla something."

"Secura, his padawan," he corrected.

Siri ogled at him. "They let Vos have a padawan?!"

Obi-Wan couldn't suppress a sharp, surprised laugh out of that, Siri just snickered again. "He's not that bad Siri."

"Coulda fooled me," she said, waving a hand through the air.

"What about Bant?" he asked when she made no further comment, "She did tend to you alongside Master Che."

Siri frowned, her eyes going sharp. "Tend to me?"

"You had wounds and scars, some old, some new, all over your body Siri," said Obi-Wan, a little incredulous.

Siri just looked at him with indifference. "Sith Training is harsh and not for the weak. Any mistake or slipups are punished."

Obi-Wan did not bother keeping the displeasure off his face. "That's no way to teach. Mistakes should be corrected, not pushed with beatings."

She seemed amused. "Funny enough, Sidious never really physically beat me. Electrocuted me all the time yes, but he never bothered with physical punishment. To easy to cut away feeling marks upon the flesh with the Force he said. Those marks I earned during my quality time with my training droids. Or while out on missions."

She scowled at him. "And hey! I never gave permission for any of that to be tended to! Most of those scars I kept as reminders."

He crossed his arms, not impressed in the slightest. "And what about the long term damage of Force Lightning then?"

She blinked at him. "The what?"

"Electricity can cause nerve damage. Damages your joints, arthritis is common, as are cataracts, and a huge amount of other side effects."

She stared at him for a moment before she started swearing, he assumed, in a strange, harsh language.

"What is that language?" he asked.

"Sith," she said flatly, irritation playing across her face, "Sidious, that old kriffing bastard. I don't even bother keeping track of all the reasons I want to kill him anymore."

"The Sith have their own language?" he asked, sidestepping that viscous torrent for the moment.

"Of course they do," she said flatly, "Force, how little does the average Jedi even know about the Sith?"

Obi-Wan didn't answer that. It was self-evident really.

Siri huffed a little. "I suppose you can give my thanks to Bant. I can't promise I'd play nice if she visits, might just scare her off."

Maybe when he had worked her over a bit more then. He toyed with asking about what happened with her mind, but held off for the moment, physical first. "How are you doing this morning?"

She stared at him.

His eyes flickered to her bandaged arms.

"I haven't the faintest idea what your hinting at," she said with lethal sweetness, her eyes predatory and dangerous, "But for your sake I suggest you drop the subject before I start breaking your fingers."

He frowned at her. "Siri... can't I even show concern for a friend?"

She growled, low and hostile, the hairs on the back of Obi-Wan's neck standing up, he reflexively took a step back as she spoke in a harsh tone. "It was a moment of weakness, nothing more, nothing less. I was caught off-guard and overwhelmed by an old weakness I thought had died out a long time ago. It won't happen again."

Obi-Wan took a moment to steel himself, to overcome that fear. "Feeling guilt isn't a weakness."

He swore facing down what Siri had become took more strength than standing up to the Council.

"For a Sith is is," she said sharply.

"Then I can't imagine why'd you ever want to be one," he snapped back, "Feeling guilt is part of what it means to be a sentient lifeform. Can you look me right in the eye and say you don't, or shouldn't, feel guilt for what you've done?"

"Being a Sith is my life now, I didn't have a real choice before, and I can't imagine anything else now," she said, her eyes meeting his for a moment before breaking away and crossing her arms stubbornly, "Perhaps it is... _unfortunate_... that people have died in my path to power, to becoming strong enough to kill Sidious, but it was a necessary sacrifice. It would have saved more lives in the long run if I succeeded in replacing Sidious."

Necessary.

Necessary?!

Did she even hear herself speak?

Was she truly so deeply, and utterly lost?

"Do you... do you honestly feel no remorse for what you've done?" he whispered.

She scowled at him. "Believe me Obi-Wan, between me and Sidious, I'm the lesser evil."

He said nothing, heartbroken and grieving. How can he fix this? How can he save her from this?

She looked away from him. "I never wished for this Obi-Wan, never would have wanted it. But whats done is done. I will do whatever it takes to achieve the power I need to kill Sidious."

"And damn anyone who gets in your way or caught in the crossfire?" he spat out.

She didn't answer, her lips drawn tight.

"Then why didn't you just kill me?" he asked, "Because I sure as hell was in the way."

She stood, and for a moment, he thought she was going to attack him, the rage on her face so all consuming. "Did you want me to kill you Kenobi? Because I could have, _easily_."

"Then why didn't you?" He had his suspicions, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Her hands were shaking, her breathing turned ragged. "Because I..."

She turned away and stalked into the fresher.

He wasn't done though, walking in after her, watching her leave heavily against the sink. "If everyone else is just 'in your way', then why should I have mattered?"

"Don't press your luck Obi-Wan," she whispered.

"I want to know," he said firmly, "Why me admitting I love you made such a difference, singled me out over everyone else you've _murdered_."

She whirled, grabbing him, and slamming him into the fresher wall, her face inches from his, her eyes wild with emotion, "Because you were the last thing I held onto! My last shred of decency, of innocence, of light. My last delusion, only it wasn't a delusion. You poured that feeling into me, showed me it, you held onto me the way I held onto you early on. I... I.. l... lo..."

She shoved him away, snarling, slamming a fist hard into the wall. Conflict deep across her face.

"You love me," he said softly, with a gentle wonder. She had felt the way he did about her, even through that darkness...

"Congratulation," she spat, "You win a medal. Now get the kriff out of my cell. I don't want to see you again today."

"Siri...," he began, reaching a hand for her.

"Touch me, and I'll break your arm," she snarled, voice rising, " ** _GET OUT_**!"

He hesitated for a moment before pulling his hand back. "Alright. I'll bring you some food later then."

"I've gone days without eating before, I'll manage," she muttered.

"Another thing I don't like about your training," he muttered, earning another growl from her.

He took the hint though and left, thoughtful. Having confirmed her feelings for him... filled him with a lot of conflicting emotions. The fantasy of growing old and still loving one another as Qui-Gon and Tahl had was long since crushed. She had damned herself thoroughly, and while he still cared, still loved her... it would always be a shadow looming behind her. Still... no one who was truly lost could love, and while being loved by a darksider ( _a Sith_ ) made him feel... uneasy, it was still an eight year old desire, to love and be loved in return by her. She was perhaps inches from falling off a pit that she might never be able to get out of, but there was still a chance, and despite how she denied it, she did feel regret, even if she was to much in denial to admit it.

She also knew, despite how she implied otherwise, that what she was doing was wrong. She wasn't so lost that she didn't recognize it. She had, even if it had been unintentional, called herself the lesser _evil_. Maybe he was grasping at straws, but... he wouldn't give up hope for her. He needed to take the rest of the day and think, plan, strategize, how to tackle this. As much as he didn't want to, Plo Koon's idea of using attachment, using love, as a weapon... might be the only real way he could make an actual impact. Because it hadn't been anything noble or remorseful or any reason like that which had stopped her from killing him and Qui-Gon, it had been her feelings for him. It left his stomach in knots... and felt wrong to do... but...

This wasn't something so simple as someone straying off the beaten path. She was fallen, Sith, so deeply lost... and even if he regretted it or she resented him for it later, he needed to pull out everything he had to bring her back...


	28. The Guide (Part 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Obi-Wan is done with Siri's shit.

"Why Soresu?"

Siri sighed. Irritated was only a minor description of how these constant pestering questions were starting to bother her. "I don't know, why don't you tell me?"

"Its just a simple, safe question," he said, "I'm curious why a darksider would choose that form."

She squinted at him. Was he for real? "A 'safe' question?"

He gave a sheepish smile. "Well, it can't be to personal or painful a story."

She rolled her eyes. "Something easy to step to lead into your prying again."

"Maybe."

"At least you have the honesty to admit it," she said dryly, "Even if you're wrong."

He hesitated.

"Now, Makashi was an quick and easy choice," she said, "Sidious had proceeded to demolish me by showing off his lightsaber skills and demanded I pick a form that I hadn't practiced as a Jedi. I chose Makashi simply because if I cross lightsabers with him, I'm really only going to get one shot, and it needs to be precise."

Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully. "Are most of the choices you make based on how you can use them to kill Sidious?"

"That, to further my own ends, or to survive him/obey his orders," she said nonchalantly, ignoring the twist of his face, before refocusing, "Makashi is the counterpart to Soresu for me, an offense to pair with my defense."

Obi-Wan's brows furrowed. "How did you go about choosing Soresu? When did you start learning it?"

For a moment, she was back with Master Ur Manka, him walking her through the beginnings of the form again...

She shook her head, her face briefly filling with loathing before she banished it, giving Obi-Wan a cooled look. "That's frankly none of your business."

"It's a harmless question...," he began.

"No Obi-Wan, it really isn't," she said flatly, "Why I chose what I did can be used as a hint towards a strength or a weakness that could be used against me. How I learned it..."

Zannah had spent hours drilling Siri in it, and personally showing her every twist and trick to the form for months on end. She still wasn't as good as Zannah had been with it, and had yet to truly start weaving Sith Sorcery into active combat, but she had been close to getting the hang of splitting her attention before Naboo. Speaking of Sorcery, she wasn't going to be letting in on that at any point. The less the Jedi knew and understood about her capabilities, the better.

"...is a secret before you even begin to ask, because that can reveal just as much information."

He scratched his head. "Well... I admit I was curious. You're rather skilled with it, I was curious who taught you how to use it like that, and with a saberstaff. I'm guessing it's not Sidious."

Siri crossed her arms and gave him a look.

He sighed. "I didn't ask about your forms to glean information Siri, I just asked because I was interested. I thought it would be a topic that would be safe, neutral to start with, I didn't mean any offense."

So ignorant... the Jedi, or perhaps just Obi-Wan, were so ignorant of how so many different things could be used against a person. From how they fought, to their character, their speech patterns, how they walked or held themselves, how they thought, what kind of people they liked or didn't like, everything. Its part of the reason she adopted Zannah's attitude. It was as much of an offensive tool as it was a defensive one. Not to mention _fun_ via messing with people.

"You're so cute floundering about without any idea what you're doing," she mused.

Case and kriffing point, watching Obi-Wan flush and then scowl at her.

"Master Ur Manka was way better at this than you were," she teased.

Obi-Wan's face flashed with hurt, turning away. "..."

She hesitated, watching him make for the door without saying a word. "Obi-Wan?"

He called for the guards to cycle the door.

"Obi-Wan, wait a sec, I didn't mean...," she began.

But he was gone.

And then she was as alone as she had been ten minutes prior...

* * *

He returned the next day, but... his face was closed off, cooled, giving her a tray of food and silently watching her eat. When she finished, he grabbed the tray and made for the entrance...

"Soresu... is chosen for many reasons by the Jedi, some because they like it, some because they think its defensiveness suits the motto of the Order," she said, one leg crossing over the other as she sat, eyes watching him pause a few feet from the forcefield, "A Sith however chooses differently. A Sith chooses to specialize in a form to suit their needs, not their desires."

He didn't turn, not immediately. And for a moment, just a moment, she was afraid she was going to be stuck alone in this cell, with nothing to do and no one to talk to, for another day. "And why did you _need_ to learn Soresu?"

She doesn't like the way his voice is chilly towards her. It shouldn't affect her. She shouldn't let it affect her. But she doesn't like it regardless, it makes her... if she was less controlled, it would make her squirm uncomfortably. "I'm not a muscle bound lummox like Bruck was. I'm not going to naturally overpower my opponents, not unless they are weaker, or I'm pushing a lot of the Force into my blows. I have to rely on skill, on deflection, mobility, my terrain, not being where my opponent is attacking; Soresu is all that and more. I'm not as small as Za... as my instructor was, but, it still suits me. Perhaps I could have gotten away with Djem So or Ataru, their fluidity would have worked, but I _like_ Soresu."

He turns his head, giving her a thoughtful look.

"I enjoy watching my opponents try to break me," she can't help but add maliciously, "And watching them fail, burning through their energy and allowing me a nice, easy kill when I so deign to grant them that mercy."

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. "And just when I thought you could give a simple, clean answer."

She snickered. "I'm a Sith, Obi-Wan, what did you expect?"

That's the closest she's going to get to giving him an actual apology for yesterday. As deluded as he and the Jedi are... she knows he cares for her, wants to help in his own, ignorant, foolish way. Obi-Wan isn't any ordinary Jedi, or any of the trash she deals with on a normal basis. He doesn't deserve the sharpness of her tongue. Not unless he does something to piss her off anyway. Then its fair game.

He gives her a small, sad smile. "I suppose I don't know. You're both nothing and everything like the old horror stories we were told in the creche."

Siri frowned a little, tilting her head back. "I... can't really remember those."

Obi-Wan hesitates for a moment, an uncertain look on his face. "You'll... have to forgive me if I go to far, but, does that have anything to do with you having to compartmentalize certain areas of damage in your mind?"

Siri went very still, her voice hushed. "How do you know about that?"

"Master Che did a brief pass," said Obi-Wan in a careful tone, "She wanted to fix the damage, but... your head is apparently full of traps."

Siri slowly let her rigid form pool away. "You should be careful whose head you venture into. Mine is not a safe place to be."

"Yet according to Master Chi, there's traces of at least four darksiders having been in it," he said mildly, unmasked concern in his eyes.

She gave him a baffled look. "Four? Sidious and Plaguies I get, but who... oh, do Sith Holocrons count?"

Obi-Wan went wide-eyed. "Who is Plaguies? And Sith Holocrons? You've accessed those dark devices?"

"Plagueis," Siri said mildly, "Is a mess I got blindsided by in the middle of the kriffing Naboo mission, and yes, of course I've used Sith Holocrons, I'm a karking Sith for Force sake!"

She hummed to herself for a moment, watching Obi-Wan's eyes maintain their wide-open worry. "I'm feel like giving the Council a stroke. Feel free to tell them that up until like, a few days after Tatooine, there were two Dark Lords of the Sith. Because Sidious couldn't be bothered to have killed his own Master before taking me on as an apprentice."

Obi-Wan _paled_. "Two?"

"Always two there are, one to embody the power, the other to crave it," said Siri in a hushed, craving whisper, before scowling, "Plagueis got suspicious and decided he'd ransack through my mind. He wasn't gentle. He paid for it with his life, I even got to kill him, but I..."

She looked away for a moment. "I can't remember most of my years as a Padawan accuratly, its... if I even try to look at it it's a jumbled, painful mess."

She yelped a little when there were suddenly arms around her. "I'm so sorry Siri."

Siri... sat there unmoving. Not sure how to react. On one hand... she hadn't had anyone hold her like this since... Master Ur Manka... and it was Obi-Wan... it felt good, a foreign warmth. On the other hand, she despised the assumption that she was so weak she needed a comfort. She allowed herself a few more seconds to enjoy it, before scowling and shaking him off, huffing. "Please, its just a minor inconvenience I need a moment to take care of."

"Then why didn't you on your trip back to Naboo?" he demanded, "Siri, you can't let that kind of damage linger!"

"I'm a Sith, why should you care?" she jabbed back angrily, not acknowledging the question.

"We've been over why I care," he said heatedly, "And Sith or no, no one deserves that kind of pain, to have their mind ripped through. Why. Didn't. You. Fix. It? You had plenty of time to."

She shoved him back and screamed. "I DIDN'T WANT TO!"

He stumbled a bit, corrected his balance, and stared. "Why?"

"It's easier," she hissed, "To not have a past dragging you down if you can just forget about most of it."

She looked away, unable to meet that wounded look in his eyes. "A Sith thrives off of pain and anger, off suffering, especially their own. If all my past gives me is pain, without any of the drawbacks coming from a Jedi normally would, then all the better."

"That's an awful way to live," said Obi-Wan quietly before frowning, "How do you remember me then?"

She fidgeted a bit. "I... was selfish. I held onto the parts that I actually liked. You... Master Galia... Bant, Vos, Ga..."

She swallowed. "Garen."

There was the tiniest flinch from Obi-Wan at that, a flicker of accusation and anger in his eyes before he masked it. Siri's stomach plummeted, and her eyes widened.

No.

No way.

He wasn't there.

He couldn't possibly know.

There's no possible way he could have figured out she killed Garen.

"I... I don't want to talk anymore today Obi-Wan," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as she struggled with another massive wave of crushing guilt, "Leave."

How... how could he even stand to be in the same room as her? How could he even care? If he knew she had killed one of their best friends? Force, she had ripped through his own mental shields, something he had shown sympathy towards her for. Why did he feel anything towards her anymore?

"Maybe," he said slowly, "I don't want to leave right now."

Siri uncrossed her legs and tensed, gripping the bed as if to push off, eyes sweeping across the room in steadily rising panic, reflexively looking for an exit she could use. She wanted out of here. She wanted to be away from Obi-Wan. She wanted the Dark Side back to drown out these damned feelings she thought she had gotten over years ago. She wanted to not have to struggle to control herself every waking moment while in this accursed Force suppressant cell with him. Frankly, she'd settle for dying right about now judging by the steel in his eye.

"Siri."

She swallowed and turned her head towards him.

"I'm surprised you didn't choose to forget about Garen," he said, eyes narrowed, "After all, I remember watching you cry over _murdering_ him. I'd thought you'd want to forget about that remorse, that regret."

Siri made a choking sound. "H-how..."

"Force vision," he said flatly, taking a step forward, "Why chose to continue this life of suffering Siri?"

She gritted her teeth, trying _so hard_ to bury long dead emotions that should stay dead. She sneered at him, reaching for any hateful memory she could, desperately wishing she could draw power from them. "I'm a Sith Obi-Wan, it's my life. I enjoy it. I have no regrets."

"You _**LIAR**_!" he shouted at her, jabbing a finger in her direction, "You _cried_ over him!"

"I was young!" she shouted back, "Weak! Foolish! Stupid! Clinging to trappings of a life I should have let die years ago!"

"Weak? Foolish?" he hissed, glaring at her, "Sidious had you murder one of your best friends, and brutally shocked you when you cried over him. He's had you do so many awful, atrocious things. So let me ask you something Siri. Everything you've done up to this point: Was. It. Worth. It?"

She shook with fury, eyes blurring with tears she never wanted to let free.

"Because right about now Siri," he said harshly, "I think it's left you alone in this cell with _nothing_ to show for it. But you already knew that, you _admitted_ that this path would destroy you."

"It'll be worth it," she whispered, "I... I just... I have to kill Sidious and it'll all be worth it."

He gave her a look of pure pity. "No, no it won't Siri."

He stood in the center of the cell and stared at her, his voice powerful and focused. "Mark my words Siri. If you get out of this and still end up going back to the Dark Side, to the Sith, remember what I say here and now: One day, you'll stand over Sidious's corpse, I don't doubt you will, you'll be triumphant for that one, single moment. Then you'll realize that that you lost everything you ever had to gain in doing so, sacrificed all that was dear and precious to you. All you'll have left is the Dark Side, with everything and everyone else turned unto ash. Then, and only then, will you truly realize that it wasn't worth it."

"Shut up," she whispered, shaking her head again and again, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"Of all the things I remember about you Siri," he said, shaking his head, "I don't remember you being a _coward_."

"A coward," she spat out, "You think I'm a coward? When I've had the strength to walk my path?"

"That's anything _but_ strength," he snarled, "I think you're a coward, because you're to afraid to walk away from the Dark Side! You're to afraid to admit you still can despite how much you've done to damn yourself! To kill your own damn soul! You're to afraid to even try!"

"What's there left to try for?" she spat bitterly.

"I don't know, maybe becoming a decent, respectable sentient being? Having a real life? Becoming happy? Being good?" he said, "Who can help pay back society for what you've done by helping us stop Sidious?"

"You... you think it's that simple? You think I can walk away from what I've become?" she spat, her voice wobbling.

"And what is it, exactly, that you have become?" he asked pointedly before his voice softened, "That makes you rejects my care? Reject me trying to help you find another path? Reject finding your way back?"

She absolutely lost it.

"I'M A MONSTER! A MASS MURDERER! A RAPIST! I'VE KILLED HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE AND RUINED AN EQUAL AMOUNT OF LIVES! I KILLED ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS, TRIED TO KILL YOU! I'M A SITH! HOW CAN YOU FEEL ANYTHING FOR ME?" she screamed at him at the top of her lungs, "WHY? WHY DON'T YOU HATE ME?!"

Her energy left her then, burnt out and ashen; she sagged. " _Why_?"

He closed his eyes, deep pain etched across his face. "A Jedi does not hate."

"Don't... don't give me that bantha shit," she spat out weakly.

"I don't know Siri," he admitted, "You've given me every reason to, with all that you've done, all that you've admitted being willing to do. I should hate you, I shouldn't feel a speck of love for you. I should walk away and leave you to rot."

It was like a gaping, bleeding wound had burst open...

He shook his head and opened his eyes. "I hate what you've done, I'm disgusted, and so unbelievably angry that its a good thing I can't touch the Force right now. But you yourself? I don't feel anything malicious, just pity, grief, and regret, for not having been able to do something for you sooner. But I'll be damned if I don't help you over your _cowardice_ and get you back on the right path."

She closed her eyes, unable to stop the tears this time. "I'm... I'm not a coward Obi-Wan... I'm just realistic. I'm not afraid of coming back, because there is nothing to come back to. It's to late... its far to late... its been to late for me for years..."

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "No its not Siri, if you had killed me, turned your back on what you felt, maybe then, but you didn't, and I'm going to keep hammering in that point until you well and truly accept it."

"Then we're going to be here for the rest of my life," she said weakly.

"If that's how long it takes," He turned towards the entrance. "Tomorrow, we're going to start from the beginning, and you are going to tell me everything that you went through, that you did. Day by day, until we're done."

Her eyes trailed him towards the forcefields. She felt more raw than she ever had in her life, she wanted to hate him, wanted him to hate her, yet she didn't want to be here alone with only her emotions as company, "Please... please don't go... don't leave me alone in here..."

He stopped a few feet from the entryway. "You're going to have to make a choice Siri. Because if this is the path you choose, if you ever become Darth Tyrosus again, if you leave yourself behind and become that monster, I will walk away, I will leave you, I will let you go, and I won't look back with anything but regret."

She watched him go, and it was minutes before she could voice her grief, letting out a quiet sob. Darth Tyrosus... everything Sidious wanted her to be, everything Siri wanted to become in order to kill him... everything she had been for those few minutes on Naboo... what she had lost when Obi-Wan sucker punched her with love... she remembered that state... and frowned...

Zannah had described becoming a Sith, truly becoming a Sith and accepting the Dark Side, as being like you were dying and being reborn. Leaving behind an old shell as you ascended into your new, unrestrained life. A new you, free of the chains of the past. Yet... here Siri sat... looking at that moment in her raw state... she couldn't deny what she saw...

She looked through her memories... and while that moment was drowned in darkness, the memory was her own, they belonged to no one else...

No lurking split personality... it was only her in her mind...

It was a lie... a lie Sith told themselves...

She whispered to herself a truth that she struggled with, that she wanted to deny. "Then I've already lost you Obi-Wan. I was there for a moment, before you pulled me away. I was her... you don't get it... I don't think the Sith as a whole get it. I... I didn't understand the concept until I reached that state, and then shattered it when I came back. I thought... I thought back on my life, that Siri, that I, was a weak, pathetic little girl that didn't exist anymore... trappings to be cast aside. But it's not true..."

She shook her head. "Siri Tachi, Darth Tyrosus, there is no difference. They're the same person. Two sides to the same coin. Just my mess of a life, and then me at my absolute worse with everything good that could hold me back smothered deep down. The Dark Side may help to create that state, but it can't bring out something _you don't_ _already have the potential to be_... I always had the potential to be a monster, everyone does... I became that monster to kill one... and I can't come back... I can't..."

She put her head between her knees, and she sobbed, racking herself with loss and loss to be, hatred of herself, of Sidious, of everything, but unable to draw power from the intensity, her head hurting at the backlash, until exhaustion took her...


	29. The Guide (Part 5)

The veins on Master Windu's forehead are throbbing.

It's not what Obi-Wan should be focusing on as he stood in the middle of the council chamber, but he can't help stealing a glance and sending it down his still-active bond with Qui-Gon, earning a distracted but amused acknowledgement. Considering the circumstances, he shouldn't feel any amusement, Siri had confirmed the existence of a second Sith Lord that had been alive until recently after all, but he still does. Its rare that either he or Qui-Gon managed to get this much of a reaction out of Master Windu, mostly it's just scowls or mild irritation, maybe a change in tone. Perhaps its not fair to Mace Windu, he's the Master of the Order, head of the council if one doesn't consider Grandmaster Yoda, it's his _job_ to take things seriously in order to serve and protect the Jedi Order. Master Windu takes that responsibility, well, _seriously_. He shouldn't be poked and prodded for it; shouldn't be a source of entertainment.

Obi-Wan just can't help himself; he blames Qui-Gon for it.

"Two Lords of the Sith," repeated Master Windu, his voice tight, "And multiple Sith Holocrons."

The man rubs his face tiredly. "Did she give any indication of where the Holocrons were or who they were of?"

"No," said Obi-Wan, "I kind of doubt she will give that away yet."

He wonders if the Holocrons are where she learned Soresu. He probes the Force, but just gets a murky shrug back. Useless as always, he missed the more clear times of his youth, he really does.

"Two lords, there _were_ ," pointed out Yaddle, "If believed, Tachi is to be."

"It would explain that massive explosion of Dark Side energy that the entire Order felt some time ago," said Plo Koon, "Two Sith Lords confronting one another, and one dying."

"Pray would I, that the truth, it is not," said Yoda, ears flickering, "Powerful, that energy was. Stand against that darkness, almost none in the Order could."

"While true, I'm more currently concerned," said Master Piell, "That we've had two Dark Lords of the Sith under our nose on Coruscant for who knows how long. That they've hidden from us for almost a thousand years undetected. It's unacceptable. We cannot fathom how much potential damage they've done lurking in the shadows. How did we miss this?"

"Clouded, the Force is...," began Yoda.

"For the entire last thousand years?" countered Master Piell.

Yoda didn't immediately respond, bringing his stick up to gnaw on in deep thought. "Mmm..."

"Well, we do have a Sith to ask," said Plo Koon pointedly, mask turning towards Obi-Wan.

"Slow steps Masters," said Obi-Wan respectfully, "Helping Siri, and getting her to help us in return, is going to be a very long process."

"Do you feel that you have made any progress thus far?" inquired Plo Koon.

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I won't say progress as much as I would say that I've attained an understanding that I frankly wish I never had to gain."

Ki-Adi-Mundi leaned forward. "And is this 'understanding' something you believe you can share?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Suffering is a way of life for the Sith, not just for others, but for themselves, especially for themselves. They draw power from it, from their own pain. I don't know if that's common knowledge in the studies of the Sith, but... it was an unpleasant surprise for me. The more painful memories they have to induce emotions, the more power they gain. The more they can damn themselves, the better. At least... that's how I understand it."

"It's no way to life," he said quietly, "Not at all."

"Mmm," mused Yoda, "Worry not if same it is, from past Sith, to present Sith. Changes there may have been, important to see differences, hmm."

Obi-Wan swallowed, not... not sure if he really wanted to say this aloud, but..., "Siri knows what she's done is wrong, she's not blinded to it. She knows exactly where this path will lead her. She just... doesn't care. She'll damn herself as much as she has to if it allows her to kill Darth Sidious. She considers herself the 'lesser evil', and that's her own words."

"Does she not realize that she will simply end up becoming him in the end?" rumbled Plo Koon, "That every step she takes will create a beast as foul and vile as the man she hates?"

"I'm... not sure," said Obi-Wan quietly, "She said it would be worth it if she killed him, that she wouldn't know if she'd be worse than him or not. I'm not sure it's something she's given a lot of thought to. I could be wrong, but... most of her existence at this point seems to revolve around her Master: She does his missions. She fears his punishments. She grows stronger with the aim of killing him. She hates him with a passion a Jedi could never understand. Everything is about him."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Perhaps its unbecoming of a Jedi to say, but if he were killed, at least by someone else, I think most of Siri's reasons to be dark would simply evaporate."

When no one spoke up to rebuke the words, he continued, "Then it would just be down to her unwillingness to try and change. Which I think is the more worrying issue at the moment since Sidious can't touch her here. She's called herself a monster. She's done so much that she doesn't think she can return. Siri simply doesn't _want_ to try. I don't know what Master Ur Manka did to convince her to try before, I intend to find out."

He licked his lips. "In summary: I think its a mixture of so many things latching her to the Dark Side: Sidious being the biggest, followed by what she's done. She is of course addicted to its power and it's side effects. And... her guilt."

"Mmm? Guilty, she feels?" questioned Yoda, curious.

"In that cell, without the Dark Side, she can't suppress that emotion," Obi-Wan answered, "She can try to hide it, but she does regret what she's done, it eats away at her. She want's to feel the Dark Side again badly, just to give her a reprieve from it. I've started my attempts, but getting her to confront and accept what she's done with the aim to do better, rather than look on them as 'necessary sacrifices', is going to be a major hurdle."

"Necessary sacrifices," said Master Windu, disgust in his voice.

"As I said, she believes everything she does will be worth it if she kills Sidious," Obi-Wan said tiredly, "Getting her to realize otherwise is... well... like I said, a long process..."

* * *

The first thing Obi-Wan noticed when he walked into Siri's cell the next morning was... the vacancy of her eyes and the lines of stress across her face. He had wanted to make a point when he had left last time... yet somehow, he's not sure leaving her alone had been the right choice to make after that... well... that frankly well deserved rebuke. He doesn't regret that, no, but not at least offering a comfort and talking her through it might have been a mistake. Force, he doesn't knows how to act around Siri anymore, and aside from life or death situations, the Force hasn't given him much inclination on what to do about Siri when he's outside the cell. It's murky, its been murky, but its especially clouded about the Sith. It means he's on his own, and he'll be the first to admit, he hasn't really the faintest idea what he's doing. He's a twenty-five year old padawan-but-not with an attachment problem who was/is the apprentice to 'The Maverick'.

Going off the beaten path should be a simple thing for him.

This, is so far off the beaten path its in another galaxy at this point.

And Qui-Gon both can't and wont offer advice on this. Despite it having been _decades_ , Xanatos _still_ looms like a shadow over his Master, and the gentle giant refuses to influence the outcome. Obi-Wan believed the man could offer sound advice outside the norm that was desperately needed, but... he couldn't force it. And Qui-Gon needed to focus on Anakin Skywalker. And boy, was Obi-Wan glad that wasn't his responsibility, because that kid had _baggage_. Not that he was bemoaning the kid or anything, Qui-Gon being an idiot for dropping the 'I'll take him as my apprentice' mid council meeting or not. Then again... Obi-Wan does now have an infinite supply of tea from his old master as a token of apology, so perhaps that worked out.

Anyway, he was off track. "Siri?"

When she didn't respond, he went over and... nope, not getting hit again. He reached out with his foot and nudged her leg once, twice-and-spring back!

Siri's eyes focused and she was up and moving, body tensed, fists tightened, already shifting into a fighting stance before she paused and noticed him edging back. There is a brief moment of _-something-_ intense in her eyes, a swallow going down her throat, before its gone and she's back to that jolly-sadistic attitude, an amused look crossing her face. "You're learning, I was certain you'd need a black eye, a busted lip, and a broken tooth first."

"Well, when you slugged me last time, it left an impression."

She squinted, eyeing his face. "Figurative or literal? It's hard to tell with a face like that."

He didn't allow her the satisfaction of even a glare, he just rolled his eyes. "You hit hard, but not that hard."

She looked positively indignant, huffing and crossing her arms. "Just be glad I didn't have the Force to back my blow, or you'd need a healer to fix your ugly mug, also, you forgot my food again, so turn right around and go get me some."

Obi-Wan groaned. "Right, sorry, I need a note to stick to my head."

"Get me a marker and I can do something similar," she said, snickering after.

Obi-Wan returned a bit later, a tray of food in his hands, stepping into the cell and finding Siri... oddly contemplative. Her eye weren't that terrible vacancy they were earlier, but... there's resignation and loss in them that he doesn't like. She doesn't acknowledge when he puts the tray on the bed next to her, but he can briefly feel her eyes on him when he turns around to walk to the wall, moving to sit down. He has a feeling she came to a conclusion last night, and it wasn't the one he wanted. He mentally kicked himself and settled in to see what kind of damage control he needed to do.

Best to test the waters. "So, what happened after you were abducted by Sidious after the mission with Tally?"

She briefly turned her focus to the tray of food, grabbing it, and began to pop food into her mouth, speaking between swallows. "He put me in an unlit cell, chained to the floor, and tortured me until I complied and became his apprentice."

His eyes are on her face as she recounts it... and he while he's glad she's not refusing to tell him... he doesn't see a fleck of emotion. "What kind of torture?"

She shrugged, apparently indifferent. "Starvation, dehydration. Force Lightning, minor physical damage; the asshole broke my nose the first day and left it broken till I got out of the cell. Isolation, left alone days on end between his visits. The bastard would eat and drink in front of me, tempt me with both if I'd do things," she sneered, "Never gave him that satisfaction. He kept going for awhile with that kind of crap."

Her sneer turned into a dark curl of her lip. "Threatened me when he started losing his patience. Said he would inflict intense physical and mental torture, loan me to a whorehouse, inducing madness, tracking..."

She cut off and shook her head. "I took the offer when he came back after letting me stew on it."

Obi-Wan blanched at the threats, he had no doubt the Sith would actually do them, but... what had she not said. Tracking... what? He had enough sense even without the Force to know she was holding something, probably multiple things, back from her retelling. He wishes she would trust him with it, but he knows better. They may have feelings for one another, feelings that managed to survive through sheer stubborn ( _unhealthy_ ) attachment, but neither of them trusted the other. He wanted to help her, he truly did, but even if she did agree to his help, did turn back to the light...

He could never take that she'd stay light for granted.

Yet... he remembered what he said to the Council. Siri needed trust to turn away from this, to trust in others and have them trust in her. Even if she turned back, helped them kill Sidious, and went on to be an exemplary Jedi... there would always be doubt, hidden away. If not in Obi-Wan, then in the Council, or anyone else that learned what Siri had been. He had the distinct hope that the most other Jedi would learn was that she had been a Dark Jedi, and not a Sith. If they learned otherwise... well... he didn't think it would go well for Siri's return in the long run. The temple rumor mill would tear her apart, she would always be treated with ( _righteous_ ) suspicion, looked down upon, snide comments thrown her way by the younger Jedi, everything that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were currently treated to and more.

Anxious wasn't quite the word he'd consider using to describe what he felt about that.

"What came next? The murders?" he asked.

She scoffed. "Really Obi-Wan?"

"It's an honest question."

"It's a stupid one if you think I was ready for that right off," she retorted, "He started instructing me on the Dark Side next, began to compare and contrast the Sith and the Jedi. Left me with a book on Sith language and access to a training room while he went to go take care of something. When he came back, he instructed me on how to meditate with the Dark Side."

"It's different?"

"Of course it's different," she said, exasperated, "Meditating with the Dark Side requires a focal point, yourself. You wrap your emotions around you and let them fuel you."

"That sounds... selfish."

There was a hint of nostalgia on her face. "I think I said something like that when he first instructed me."

She slowly shook her head. "It's freeing is what it was. To actually be able to feel, to be a sentient lifeform rather than an emotionless drone of a Jedi."

Obi-Wan gave her a look that said what he felt at that comment. "Jedi are not emotionless..."

"There is _no_ emotion, there is peace," she parroted back mockingly.

"Jedi are at peace, Siri, with themselves, with their emotions," he countered back.

"Maybe if you're Qui-Gon 'Maverick' Jinn or his apprentice," she said flatly, "Because that wasn't how it was with Master Galia, it was always beat down your emotions and release anything you feel to the Force; duty before self, especially before self, repress anything that makes you not a stoic, perfect Jedi."

He frowned at her. "Are you sure you're not remembering it wrong?"

"Why don't you go and find out?" she mocked, "Take a stroll around the temple and tell me if you see anyone who isn't a little youngling or a 'delinquent Jedi' show anything but stoicism. Realize just how rigid, uncompromising, and stagnant your order is, and how utterly they betray themselves."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. "Betray ourselves?"

Her smile grew viscous. "I've been instructed on the matter, and done my studies over the last eight years. Perhaps you should consider, Obi-Wan, just how many ancient Sith Lords of the past were former Jedi: Freedon Nadd, Revan and Malak, Exar Kun, Ulic Quel-Droma, Darth Ruin, Karness Muur, XoXaan, Darth Treya, Darth Nihilus was born out of Malachor V so I assume he was a Jedi at some point, even Ajunta Pall himself way back when, the first Sith Lord, was a former Jedi."

Obi-Wan blinked a few times. He didn't know half of those names.

"And that, is only some of the major Sith, lets not even consider how many 'lesser' Sith came from the ranks of the Jedi, or how many Jedi simply turned Dark rather than Sith, or joined some other Dark Side faction," she added in, a self-pleased purred escaping her lips before raising her eyebrows suggestively, "Wonder what that says about the Jedi Order, what could _possibly_ be wrong with it that so many splinter away to be free."

Her eyes turned predatory. "Or maybe they're driven away. Does the name Xanatos ring a bell Obi-Wan? I hear Qui-Gon killed his father."

He had been considering how to address and counter her question ( _or maybe look into it objectively_ ), but immediately lost the line of thought, darkly scowling at her. "Xanatos made his choice, he had already sided with his father's madness by that point."

Siri held up a finger. "Ah, but one thing I do remember you telling me was that Xanatos fell _after_ Qui-Gon killed his old man. Up until that point, perhaps Qui-gon could have salvaged the situation."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in and letting it out. Xanatos was a rough subject for him, let alone Qui-Gon, to deal with or talk about. "Qui-Gon didn't mean to kill Crion..."

"Oh yes," mocked Siri, "He didn't mean to kill Xanatos's father _right in front of him_. Intention doesn't matter in the face of what was done. But lets not stop there..."

She glared at him. "Let's ask a simple, very important question: Why the _hell_ did the Jedi Council pit Xanatos against his family to begin with? Didn't he... remember his family? Knew them? Wasn't he... older than a normal youngling when he was taken in? I can't really remember."

Obi-Wan frowned a little. "A little bit. It was one of his issues, Qui-Gon said he tried to impress upon other Jedi his so called 'powerful background'."

She sneered. "Is it so wrong to be proud of one's family? Oh right, Jedi don't have those."

"Well, you're feeling nasty today," said Obi-Wan mildly.

"I'm just using the only in-my-lifetime example that I can somewhat remember," she said with false-charm, "For everything Xanatos did wrong, how much did the Jedi do wrong in turn to build upon them, or fail to do to correct the issues? Honestly, you didn't acknowledge what I said. What the hell were they thinking to send Xanatos against his family? That's such a massive conflict of interest, and whats worst, its outright cruel."

"Cruel? Coming from a Sith?" he shot back.

"Stop sidestepping the question," she growled out, "Yes, I'm dark, yes, I'm a Sith, and as a Sith, I _**ADMIRE**_ what the Jedi did there. Stop and think about that. They couldn't have engineered a more perfect situation for a conflicted Jedi to fall to the Dark Side. The Jedi are so rigid, so absolute in their demand of loyalty, that they would force a son to turn on his father as proof of his _devotion_ to the Order."

Obi-Wan held back his initial outburst of a response, keeping his lips firmly tight. She made it sound so damn awful. "Crion was no saint."

"No," agreed Siri, "He probably wasn't."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "And that's _still_ sidestepping Obi-Wan. Whether his father was a saint or not, villain or not, Xanatos should never had been put into that situation to begin with. I'm not absolving him of anything he did anymore than I am for myself, but the Council was practically _asking_ for Xanatos to turn on the Jedi. It's like they set him up to fall."

"Considering all of Xanatos's other issues, are you really going to say he wouldn't have fallen at some point anyway?"

"Who knows," mused Siri, "Maybe without that final push he would have stayed a Jedi, went on to become a knight, and an exemplary Master, he was considered a prodigy, right?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer, "Or maybe it would have still ended in him falling. I can't say."

She laid down on the bed, draping one leg over the other, giving him a sly look. "My point is, the Jedi are _absolutely amazing_ at creating their own enemies and sending anyone who doesn't fit into their strict mold off into the Dark Side. Perhaps, Obi-Wan, before you consider trying to convince me the failings of the Sith, you consider the failings of the Jedi first. I know my order's failings, do you know yours?"

Obi-Wan... for lack of a retort, walked away and made for the entrance of the cell. He let her have that round ( _considering he didn't have any rebuttal ready_ ). He had the oddest sensation, trying to wrap his head around how she had so smoothly entered into that ' _discussion_ '. She had turned it from him inquiring about her past into an argument against the Jedi. Not only that, she made it _personal_ by choosing to use Xanatos as a topic point, to get under his skin and unbalance him. She did that with almost practiced ease. He wondered, was this something Sidious had done to her, and she picked up on it? Adapted it into her repertoire? A repertoire that was steadily growing in size. Her skills with a lightsaber and the Force were not her only weapons, her tongue was showing to be just as sharp, and he had no doubt her words could be dangerous when she wanted them to be. Who knows what else she had up her sleeves.

There was also the point of Siri not absolving herself of anything she. Those words taken in abstract could have been taken as an admission of guilt and wrongdoing to be acknowledged and not looked over. But the way she said them... it was like her knowing what she would become, she just _didn't care_. She admitted the Sith Order had failings, but _didn't care_. He gritted his teeth; it was that lack of care in her choice that he needed to address.

He gnawed on his lips as he entered the elevator to leave the area. Perhaps it was time to do some research. As much as he could find on the Sith... and yes, he'd play her game, he'd look at the faults of the Jedi. As Qui-Gon's apprentice, he already had inklings ( _to use a simple terms_ ) to use as a starting point. It wasn't like he was expecting to find nothing. Nobody and no organization was perfect, everyone had faults and weaknesses. If she thought that would be a great shocking surprise to him, then she was sorely mistaken...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Disagree or agree at your own leisure about the Jedi/Xanatos.


	30. The Guide (Part 6)

Siri watches Obi-Wan walk in a few days later. She wasn't sure she kept the relief off her face; of not having impassive Temple Guards leave trays for her, of not having a single person to talk to, of Obi-Wan _not being there_. It grates on her, that she's becoming so dependent on him to keep herself intact in this wretched room. Isolation plus Force Deprivation was not a good combination. She felt... unwell, a slight chill beneath her skin, like the beginnings of an illness, but not. She is not unaware of the dangers of this room, she just didn't think they would start so soon. Its been... what, a little over a week? Maybe more maybe less, there's no clock or calendar or window in here, the passage of time is impossible to tell. Well, not unless she starts counting seconds and marking them somehow, but she's not that desperate.

Not yet.

Still...

She eyes him, eyes that he brought something with him, a datapad. He slumps down against the wall opposite to her, offering a, "Hello Siri."

She takes a careful moment to control her voice, keeping it in line with her usual self. "Doing homework in a cell? Shouldn't you be out of classes by now?"

He smiles a little. "Research actually. You made me a challenge, I'm going to answer."

Oh goodie...

She rolled her eyes, briefly stretching her arms above her head. "So, Obi-Wan, what's it take to get a few minutes outside the cell?"

His eyes flickered to the door and to her. "I don't think the Council will allow anything unless you are willing to turn away from the Dark Side."

Karking hells.

"I have years of information, that's not tempting enough for even ten minutes?" she asked with disdain.

Even a minute outside, just to feel the Force again, could alleviate some of the potential damage this room could do.

"I can ask," he answered, "But I can't and won't make any promises, they'd probably see it as a potential escape attempt."

"Then have the entire council there to watch," she snarled, "Unlike you, I don't get to leave this cell at the end of the day, it _grates_."

That was the closest she was going to admit to how unsettling this place was to her.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, "I can't really help that. But..."

He shook his head. "The point of this is to convince you to turn away, whats the point of it if you take that ten minutes to drown yourself in the Dark Side, suppress everything you feel and destroy any progress we make?"

Judging by the way he tenses, she definitely didn't manage to keep the rage off her face. She has the urge to take his head and slam it into the wall over and over again...

* * *

_She took him to the ground, lips hungrily smashing against his. It was a clumsy, possessive tangle. She pulled back again, licking her lips, the taste... wasn't what she imagined it would be. There was a slightly foul sensation, something he had eaten recently made her wrinkle her nose. What's worse was the fear on Obi-Wan's face..._

_"Stop looking at me like that," she snarled, "Obi-Wan wouldn't be afraid of me."_

_"I'm not whoever the hell this Obi-Wan is you crazy freak!" cried out Obi-Wan in someone else voice._

_Siri seethed, her fantasy fracturing. She grabbed his head and smashed it back against the wall again and again. "SHUT UP!"_

* * *

Her breathing hitched, and her anger was gone at the memory, just horror and shame left in it's place. No, no no no no no, not that memory, not now, not in this place. She took to her feet and went for the fresher, ignoring Obi-Wan's call of "Siri?"

She pressed her forehead against the cold wall, taking ragged breaths, trying desperately to shove it back. Shove her shame, her guilt, her sin away.

Then there's a soft hand on her shoulder, and another rubbing her back gently. "Siri? What's wrong?"

"Out...," she whispers, she needs him away from her, away from her filthy and monstrous person.

"Please get out," she whispered again, briefly looking at him and then turning away from the deep concern crossing his face...

* * *

_She went with what she knew, briefly pulling away to take off her lower clothes, doing the same for Obi-Wan. She stared down at the organ between his legs, she reached out and touched it, watching it twitch. Her own legs were twitching, there was a heat between them that had her in a confused flux. She pressed herself against him, kissing and tasting blood again, growling under her breath as she shifted back and forth ontop of him. She looked down when she felt something poking between her butt. His organ had grown in size. She grabbed and positioned it before shoving down on it._

_Her breath briefly hitched as a sharp and quick pain hit her. It was nothing compared to taking Force Lightning, just... strange, deeper, a continual pain and a bit of pressure where he was. There was a brief groan from Obi-Wan, not... not how he sounded. So she reached over and wrapped her hands around his throat to shut him up as she brought herself up and down clumsily. Each was an uncomfortable spike of pain, and a sensation like she was rubbing skin against something to roughly and quickly, wasn't this supposed to feel good? She went a few more times before Obi-Wan half-cried-half-gurgled and shoved upward, and she felt a twinge of a warm, wet sensation in her. She frowned a little, and kept going for a little bit until he fell out, smaller now._

_She stared down, incredulous, at the bloody looking thing (was that her blood?), a small trickle of white goop dripping down from her with the blood. Was that **IT**?! A surge of anger overtook her, and she lost control of her illusion, and then Obi-Wan was gone, and there was some sobbing half-dead redhead boy laying there in a daze. She absolutely lost it, she took him by his throat, squeezing with Force enhanced strength and smashed him against the wall behind him, pulling him back and smashing him again, over and over again, snarling in rage..._

_Until her fingers dug in and ripped out his throat, blood gushing out at her and to cover his chest. She sat there for a moment, and then let loose a scream of anger. She smashed his head into a blood pulp and then stood up, fuming. What a worthless waste of time. The boy broke the fantasy over and over again, it had hurt, hadn't felt good at all, she now needed to get a contrafertive... contraceptat, whatever the hell it was called to make sure she didn't get pregnant..._

* * *

She broke away from him and made for the toilet, retching away the nausea.

Force... what had she done? Slapped Obi-Wan's face on a boy with an illusion and raped him...

"Siri?"

If he knew, she'd never see him again... even if it had been someone else, she had forced herself on him... would she have done the same to the real Obi-Wan?

"Siri what's wrong?"

She lost it.

"GET OUT!" she screamed at him, rising to her feet, grabbing him, and slamming him against the fresher wall, "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!"

"Siri stop!" he yelled, grabbing her arms and struggling with her.

They toppled through the fresher doorway and hit the floor, rolling and grappling, a red haze coming over Siri as she tried to smash him into the floor again and again, trying to kill the pain tearing her apart. "I need a sedative in here!"

She had only half a minute more of screaming, struggling, and crying, before arms yanked her off Obi-Wan and pressed something sharp into the side of her neck. Her vision started blurring a moment later, and without the Force, she couldn't fight it, the last sight she saw through blurring vision was Obi-Wan's stricken face...

"M'sorry...," was the last thing she could slur out before darkness took her...

* * *

She woke up some time later, going rigid, before slowly relaxing her body and then opening her eyes...

And yelping when Master Dooku's face peered down at her with disapproval. She instinctively made to batter him away from her, but he swiftly moved away. "Hmm. I suppose my grandpadawan was right to warn me of such a reaction."

"Sneaking up on a Sith is a dangerous thing to do," she warned harshly.

"Ah, so she does speak," commented Dooku.

She scoffed. "I kept silent because all you'd have to do to identify me was take a memory of my voice and share it with Yoda. Qui-Gon figured it out the moment he heard me."

Dooku tilted his head in acknowledgement. "I suppose."

"What do you want you old coot?" she asked sourly.

"To give you a warning," said Dooku harshly, "Obi-Wan is a dear treasure to me, and the only reason you are both alive, and in relative comfort."

"Comfort," she echoed snidely.

"The Council hasn't brought you out to try to breech your shields or compel you to speak," said Dooku, "Your stay in the Temple could be far worse than it is. Harm Obi-Wan again, and I will add my voice to those who would take the path of common sense and reason when dealing with a Sith."

Her breath hitched, brief flashes of her battering Obi-Wan into a wall and the floor playing across her mind. "I... i-is he okay?"

Dooku looked... briefly thrown by her sudden shift, before his eyes narrowed at her. "Shaken more than anything. Keep your _fits_ to yourself if you don't mind."

"I warned him to get out," she snarled defensively, "He should have listened."

"I'll make sure he understands that then," said Dooku crisply, "And you should understand that he is your only true voice of support here that isn't basic sympathy or compassion. Burn him, and you will not like the consequences."

She pursed her lips. "You say he is the only reason I am alive, but consider this, Dooku. He wouldn't be alive right now if I hadn't refrained from killing him."

"I've watched the camera footage, I am aware," he said dryly, "It is the only reason why I have not voiced an opinion to the council as of the moment."

He turned and made for the door, pausing at the entrance. "Oh, and Padawan Tachi? Once their purpose was made clear to me, I don't particularly appreciate the little ' _gifts_ ' you and your master left to tempt me."

He turned his head to give her a nasty smile. "As a master with deep knowledge of our history, and what the Jedi know of the Sith, I intend to aid my Grandpadawan in the ' _research_ ' he has mentioned, as a ' _response_ ' to your efforts to turn me. Don't think you will have the advantage in dancing circles around a padawan anymore, a padawan whose only desire is to _help you._ "

She glowered at him.

He shook his head. "I don't know why he bothers."

He walked to the first force field, pausing briefly when Siri muttered, "I don't either..."

* * *

It was another long period of time before Obi-Wan came back. It wasn't the same day, at least, she thought not, lost in her memories, guilt, and sleep. She recognized him by his footsteps, but didn't roll over to look at him, still curled on her bed. There is the sound of him assuming his usual spot, sliding down against the wall, sitting down. The tap-tap-tap of him using a datapad. She doesn't give any indication she's awake, she just... basks, she supposes. Enjoys having him there without having an argument. No stressful confrontations or memories dragged up. She cant help the soft, content sigh that escapes her lips.

And that ruins it.

"So, I was thinking about the Jedi turned Sith you named," said Obi-Wan.

Siri groans. "Do we have to do this?"

"Yeah."

She grumbled and rolled over, eying him sourly. His eyes crinkle a little bit. "Are you feeling ill? You're a little pale."

She scoffs, and doesn't answer that question. "What about them?"

He hesitates for a moment before glancing down at the datapad. "My Grandmaster told me what he knew about some of them. Does it really count if some of them were forcibly converted to the Dark Side?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Like whom?"

"Revan and Malak for example," said Obi-Wan, "It was eventually learned that the Sith Emperor at the time had warped their minds."

Siri stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, turning her body to stare up at the ceiling. "Oh really? You think it was Vitiate who drove them to the Dark Side? Truly?"

"Yes...?" posed Obi-Wan.

"I thought that to once," she admitted, "But that didn't last when I dug in and did my homework. Do you have access to the archives?"

Obi-Wan tapped his datapad. "I can access them, yes."

"Then look how Revan and Malek changed their tactics later on in the Mandalorian Wars," she said, "You'll find that they were starting down the dark path far before they foolishly confronted a Sith Emperor by themselves."

She remembered reading it, during her studies. Zannah had been grilling her about past Sith Lords and their descent into the Dark Side. Darth Bane had apparently an above average interest in Darth Revan, so that was passed down to Zannah, and loosely to Siri in turn ( _she didn't particularly care about him aside from lessons to be learned_ ). The Revanchists under Revan and Malak began to change a few years into the war. Started to sacrifice populations and key planets to win victories elsewhere. They turned as brutal as the Mandalorians themselves. Turned to a 'Victory at all Costs' mentality.

"And remember, that Malachor V happened _before_ they went after the Sith, they sacrificed anyone they didn't think would follow them to that madness," she added in cuttingly.

She closed her eyes as Obi-Wan continued to tap-tap on his datapad, pausing to read every so often. She enjoyed the relative silence, and his presence even if she couldn't feel him in the Force. Obi-Wan was silent for a long while during his readings, Siri assumed it was a few hours, before he finally spoke, "Maybe you're right on these two."

She turned her head and opened her eyes, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? Admitting defeat?"

"Perhaps, though, I question if the pair would have fallen if the Sith hadn't instigated the Mandalorian Wars," pointed out Obi-Wan.

Siri rolled her eyes. "Always have to have the last word, don't you Kenobi?"

"You're one to talk."

She snickered. "Maybe, but since you had your try, allow me mine. What do you know about Freedon Nadd?"

Tap-tap-tap-tap. "He... was a Sith whole conquered and enslaved Onderon over four thousand years ago."

She waited for him to continue, but when he didn't she openly scoffed. "That's _ALL_ the Jedi have on him? _Really_? I thought you said Dooku told you about them?"

"He told me about _some_ of them, said it wouldn't do me to good to delve to deep," he admitted, "Hold on, let me ask him and phrase this right..."

"Phrase?"

"I doubt he could stand you winning an argument, that might loosen his tongue."

Siri couldn't help the sharp laugh that escaped her lips. "No, the old stingy prideful coot probably couldn't."

Obi-Wan gave her an evil eye briefly before he returned to tapping his datapad, followed by waiting, followed by tapping again, before Obi-Wan responded, "He was a Jedi of the former Library world of Ossus. He was given a test to become a Jedi Knight, but failed it, murdering his Master and fleeing the planet in the aftermath and became a Sith Lord."

Freedon Nadd was one of the ancient Sith that Siri truly respected, who was in a large way responsible for most of the power Siri held in the Force through her sorcery. As such, she was more than pissed to hear that blatant description, sitting up on the bed and glaring at him. "Is that so? Nice of the Jedi to interpret it their own way to hide their failings."

Obi-Wan tensed a bit at her anger. "And how exactly did they fail?"

"I've learned much of Freedon Nadd during my time as an apprentice," she hissed, "Ancient Sith was a subject I found fascinating, and enlightening. Him in particular. His 'test' as you called it, was cruel and unwarranted. He was a gifted Jedi Padawan, of the likes few in their order had seen at the time. He studied under many masters during his apprenticeship, his own being one Matta Tremayne. I dare to say Freedon could have become one of the greatest Jedi that ever lived, if they hadn't bungled it."

"Their 'test' was to completely pass over him in the knighting of several padawans despite all of his studies, progress, and hard work. It left him bewildered, hurt, and despairing. So he went to his master, seeking out her wisdom, as _**ANY** _ Jedi Padawan rightly would, and found her training. He wasn't arrogant, foolish, or angry at that point, he just wanted to seek out help as to what he could possibly have done wrong, or what he hadn't done yet to earn the rank of Knight. And do you know what his Master did? She ignored him, ignored her padawan seeking her aid."

Obi-Wan frowned a little, but didn't answer.

"So he waited, but she still ignored him, until he finally lost control of his frustration, and her response was to bring her lightsaber mere centimeters from his chest, leaving him stunned and feeling betrayed. Without any further acknowledgement, she returned to her training. He went to storm away, rightly perturbed, angry, and even afraid. Then, she chose to 'grace' him with her attention. He begged and pleaded, he wanted to be a Jedi, he asked what he needed to do, but she refused to answer."

"That sounds like a test of self-discovery," stated Obi-Wan.

Siri sneered. "It sounds like a test of Jedi stupidity. Literally all the Jedi had to do was properly guide Freedon Nadd, and he would have been one of them. Instead, they suddenly cut off support and left him floundering. He rightly turned to anger, and pronounced himself a Jedi without their say in the matter. But rather than let him go, his Master initiated the battle that ended her life by challenging him, _**HER**_ , not him. In the middle of the battle, his Master turned her saber off, and didn't defend from an attack. Freedon realized this was some kind of test, but he was already mid-swing, he tried to but he couldn't stop himself in time. He did **_NOT_ ** want to kill his Master, he had not set out to murder her..."

"And how exactly do you know this?"

"BECAUSE I READ HIS WRITINGS!" she yelled out at him heatedly, "He might have fallen, might have become a Sith, but even then, he still touched on what had happened to him to send him down the path to the Dark Side. He grieved for her at first, you know? He was stricken by guilt, until the whole situation just overwhelmed him. Anger took over, furious over the tests which he felt were made to drive him from the Order. And he was right in a way about that, failing that so called test, with the accidental death of his Master, ended it."

"If he had learned from the lesson, its purpose and consequences," countered Obi-Wan, "And went, repentant, to the Masters of the temple and explained..."

"Explained what Obi-Wan?" she snarled at him, "That he failed a stupid test and killed his Master? If he wouldn't have been kicked out, I'd be shocked. He was lost and confused because of the situation the Jedi created. One way or another it was over. And because of the Jedi's stupidity, Freedon Nadd went on to become a Sith Lord, and influence events to come, leading Exar Kun and influencing Ulic-Quel Droma into the Dark Side, and as a result, the Great Sith War begun."

She leveled her gaze on him harshly. "All because of Jedi rigidity, pushing someone into a stupid situation, and refusal to help a struggling padawan in need."

"You feel strongly about this one, especially," commented Obi-Wan, eyes curious.

"And you're avoiding answering again," said Siri.

"You never asked a question."

She glared at him. "Kriff I forgot how irritating you Jedi are. What do you think my point to this was then, oh mighty and wise Jedi."

"I think you're trying to be well intentioned even if you're creating excuses for people who went on to become complete and utter unrepentant monsters," he said flatly.

"And what does that make me then?" she said with a sneer.

"You've never particularly made an excuse for yourself," he said, "You know full well what you do is wrong, is monstrous, and you justify it _badly_."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes yes, we've been over this already..."

"And you refuse to..."

"And _YOU_ ," she cut off, "Still haven't told me what you think of Freedon Nadd's story. I don't care for this sidestepping bullshit you keep trying to pull on me Obi-Wan. Do I look like some stupid git who will let you walk all over them with that smooth voice of yours?"

"You think I sound 'smooth'?" he asked, both eyebrows raised.

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I think you're destined to make people cry at the negotiating table."

"Already have actually," said Obi-Wan cheekily, "Qui-Gon says I'm a natural and I'll outdo him one day."

"Careful not to let that ego go to your head, Jedi," she drawled.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I'm not trying to sidestep Siri, at least, not this time."

She squinted at him. "Buying time to figure out an answer?"

"Guilty as charged," said Obi-Wan with a self-depreciating smile.

She crossed her arms. "Then just say so Obi-Wan, shesh."

"Fine then, would you allow me a small recess to gather my thoughts, my dear?"

"Flirting with me like that will get you a swift kick in the dick."

He sputtered a little. "Siri!"

She flashed a charming smile. "See? I can negotiate to."

"That's not negotiating."

"Sure it is, do what I say or I kill you has worked perfectly fine for me in the past, what I said is in the same spirit," she rebutted cheerfully, "Just bodily harm instead of death."

He gave her a flat, unimpressed look. "When you do turn away from the Dark Side, and eventually go on missions again, I'm never letting you negotiate."

She snorted. "Whatever you say Obi-Wan."

He shook his head, and Siri wasn't sure if it was bemusement or chagrin on his face. Still, she gave him a few minutes to think, laying back down on her bunk.

Eventually, he sighed. "I'm not going to say the Jedi Order is blameless, Siri, nor however, am I going to say those who fell, Freedon Nadd or anyone else, are blameless either. I'm not his Jedi Master, I can't possibly know why he was given the test he was put through. On one hand, I think every initiate and padawan needs to be tested to see what they are made of and what kind of person they truly are, on the other hand, it should be custom tailored for the apprentice in question, not a one test fits all..."

He hesitated. "And a life or death duel where someone could die I really don't think is an appropriate test, on that I will agree. I also don't think suddenly cutting off support without any explanation was wise either. A simple prompting of ' _what might be wrong and what do you think you need to do to fix this_ ' followed by a few months to a year of observation to see if he had made those fixes would have been more fulfilling. But again, I wasn't there, I don't know what Freedon's particular strengths and weaknesses as a Jedi Padawan were. I can and will say however that exploding in frustration is unbecoming of a Jedi, as is getting so lost in a duel that he can't stop himself from delivering a killing blow, that is on him, even if he was egged on into the duel in question, which was, again, an unwise choice from his Master. It was also his choice to leave the Order and become a Sith Lord, even if he was pushed to it as you imply."

Siri studied Obi-Wan for a few minutes before slowly nodding. "That was... reasonable."

Obi-Wan ducked his head in a sheepish smile at the compliment. "You think so?"

"You acknowledged the situation from a neutral prospective, pointing out faults that both sides had," she said grudgingly, "Don't let it go to your head though."

He hummed to himself, tapping on his datapad again.

Obi-Wan was going to _go places_ with that kind of perspective, ability to pick a situation apart, and deliver his thoughts or rebuttals in a well thought out explanation. Not to mention his wordplay. She could think of so many ways he could have been useful if he had fallen and joined her... even if she doesn't now want him to fall. That forked tongue of his... with a bit of Force Persuasion, receptive empathy, and light mind probing...

Obi-Wan could have been an absolutely terrifying Sith who could probably have convinced people to slit their own throats with a smile on their face with honeyed words and barely a touch of the Force. To the point where she wonders if he might have been considered a threat to Sidious, if not in power, than charisma and influence. She would have propped Obi-Wan up, let him become the face of their pair, and been his blade where his words didn't work, or to back them up. She lets herself linger briefly on the lost possibilities before dismissing them as impossible.

Obi-Wan was to good to fall.

At least... not without really, _really_ , breaking him, tearing him apart and reducing him to _nothing_ and then building him back up.

She'd kill _anyone_ who tried to do that to him though.

"Do you mind if I write down what you told me about Freedon Nadd and submit it to the archives for review?" he prompted.

She pauses to consider it. She wonders if he'd do it anyway... yet... she doesn't think Obi-Wan is by nature a deceptive person. Sneaky wordplay aside... she does think he wont intentionally reveal what she says without permission. As for this specific topic... why not? It'll spread knowledge about an ancient Sith, not letting his memory fade away, and perhaps the Jedi could use the lesson to improve themselves.

Not that she expected them to last long enough to do so. "Go ahead."

They spent the next few hours discussing the other fallen Jedi turned Sith she mentioned, and she finds herself enjoying it. Obi-Wan dislikes the Dark Side and the Sith, of course, but he is not blind nor ignorant. If there is a lesson to be learned, he tries to do so. Neither of them can really force or convince the other to believe one way or the other on the topic they've chosen. Obi-Wan is under the impression that many of them wouldn't have turned without being forced to do so, having a natural tendency for the Dark, or at least not without outside ( _Sith_ ) influence. Siri doesn't necessarily disagree, but believes that the Jedi Order had a hand in turning many of them from their original path, either through active ways or through negligence.

"...and how is that not being forced to the Dark Side?" pointed out Obi-Wan, "Freedon Nadd's spirit dropping a temple on Exar Kun and forcing him to either Turn and be healed or die is really..."

Siri flapped a dismissive hand. "Exar Kun was already well on his way, because his Master couldn't be _bothered_ to have hidden his Holocron full of tempting knowledge of the Sith where an impressionable and prideful Padawan/Knight was able to delve into it. He was lured in through the knowledge, and then set out to Onderan to seek out more knowledge, not necessarily to fall, no, but that's where Freedon Nadd came in, and we've already hashed him out. Exar Kun wouldn't have been tempted if the Jedi hadn't laid the groundwork with his teacher hundreds of years ago."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't think we're going to agree on Exar Kun."

"Probably not."

Obi-Wan got up and stretched. "Okay, I think that's it for today. We've been at it for awhile."

Disappointment rushed through Siri like an ice bath, leaving her cold and yearning for more. "We can talk about something else."

Even if its more irritating trips through memory lane or ' _this is why you should turn from the dark side_ ' spiels. She just... didn't want him to go.

He shook his head. "I promised Grandmaster I'd spend a few hours training with him."

He gave her a self-depreciating smile. "Apparently he wasn't impressed with my performance on Naboo and wants to whip me into shape."

Siri snorted. "You and Jinn did better than most Jedi do against me."

Obi-Wan's smile turned a little cracked. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Siri hesitated briefly before turning her head away. She made it awkward, now it was probably better for him to leave.

"Before I go though... do you have any quick tips on Soresu?" he asked, "I was kind of impressed by how well you could use it and wanted to try my hand at it."

Siri flushed a bit. Preening under his compliment and the knowledge that she had made him want to try a new form. "Well... economy of motion and energy efficiency are the two most important parts of Soresu, do you understand those concepts?"

"Mostly."

"There's no mostly about it Obi-Wan," she said, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him, "Soresu is an _art_ , little Jedi. One of which I'm still mastering."

"Still?" he asked, a slight tone of disbelief.

"Oh yes," she said, thinking of how to better weave Force powers into her style, "Even still. Especially for a Sith, stagnation is _death_."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows furrowed. "Death?"

"A Sith must always be improving, changing, evolving. _Complacency_ and _stagnation_ ," she spat out, "Will kill a Sith more than anything else. You must always struggle to reach the top, and then keep improving."

Obi-Wan frowned a bit, glancing down at his datapad briefly. "Hold that thought, because I want to talk about _that_ next time."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong with what I said, _Kenobi_?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "But... constantly fighting and struggling all the time..."

He shook his head. "That's no way to live."

She scowled. "Go get kicked around by your grandmaster."

"I will," he admitted cheekily, turning to the door.

Siri sighed softly and began to lay back down for another isolated rest of the day...

"Siri...," began Obi-Wan.

"Are you going, or are you not?" she said flatly, laying down.

"The conversation about Jedi turned Sith... do you blame the Order for your fall?" he asked quietly.

Siri froze for a moment. Swallowing.

Did she blame them?

She frowned, letting the memory of her fall overtake her again...

She hissed in an odd mixture of rage and pain, vision briefly blurring at a throb in the back of her mind. It felt like she wanted to draw from it, was trying to, but came against a brick wall and slammed face first into it at breakneck speeds. She saw spots for a moment in her vision before closing her eyes at a painful backlash. She reached up a hand to brush her nose as she felt something trickle out, and kept the hand there, as if blocking him from seeing the reaction on her face, before she took a breath and let it out. "How exactly would I blame them for that?"

"You tell me," he asked, "Maybe I'm wrong, but... I kind of get the vibe that you do. Not that I can check with the Force in here."

Maul killed Master Gallia and threatened Obi-Wan... the Jedi Order had little to nothing to do with that. Save maybe not properly preparing their members to face the Dark Side. She couldn't blame them for that anymore than she did any other failing...

But...

She thinks of the emotional mess she was leading up to that fight...

Her struggle with the desire forbidden from Jedi, of love. Siri wasn't stupid, even back then. The chance of them being allowed to be together, or start a relationship, wouldn't have been tolerated. Even keeping it secret she doubted would have worked. The reason Qui-Gon and Tahl had managed to, if she recalled right, was because they hadn't acted on it nor admitted it for decades, where both she and Obi-Wan had, even if it was only a kiss. The Jedi wouldn't have changed their order for them. If either of their Jedi Masters had caught wind of it, or anyone else really... they would have been forced to make a choice, she knows that. Give it up, or leave the Order.

Always so rigid and uncompromising.

She dreaded giving up that love, burying what had suddenly came to life for the first time in her life. That fear of loss... that had been the first crack to destabilize her, and everything else went from there...

She opened her eyes and stared at Obi-Wan. "Perhaps I do, but I doubt its the way you think I'd blame them."

Obi-Wan gave her a puzzled look, but she made a shooing motion with her other hand, and he obliged. Only after he left, did she bring her hand away from her face, and saw the splotch of blood on it. She stared at it silently, eyes furrowed, before she moved to the fresher to clean it off. She needed to stay away from that memory, away from any of her most intense memories, ones that instinctively gave her immense strength through the Dark Side. Trying to do that while in this room... obviously wasn't a good idea.

That backlash _hurt_.

There we more dangers to Force Suppression than she thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some universal constants that should always be followed in Star Wars, beyond Anakin Skywalker being an utter human disaster.
> 
> Obi-Wan Kenobi using Soresu is one of them IMO, and if Qui-Gon dying isn't the reason this time, getting his and Qui-Gon's asses handed to them will be. Oh, and him being the Negotiator :P.


	31. The Guide (Part 7)

"...iri?"

Siri blinked into focus, noting a concerned Obi-Wan from the other side of her cell, when had he come in? "What?"

"I was calling your name for about two minutes."

Her eyebrows furrowed a bit before shrugging. "Lost track of time in la la land."

It happened again then. This is to fast, she shouldn't be losing track like that so fast, she needed to get out of this room.

Obi-Wan gave her an incredulous look. "La la land? Really Siri?"

"Yeah, really."

"That looked more like vacant-not there land to me."

She gave him a sharp, tight smile. "Do you want something Obi-Wan?"

"I was curious about something you said last time..."

"Not interested," she said, her voice rising.

"Siri..."

"Unless you're coming with a deal to let me out of the room for a few minutes, even a single minute, _get out_ ," she snapped harshly.

Obi-Wan took one look at her face and did an about face. Seemed like Dooku had drilled it into him not to push his luck so much...

...She regretted it five minutes later though when the isolation returned...

* * *

"Morning Siri."

"Get out."

* * *

"Morn...

"OUT!"

* * *

Siri feels jittery by the fourth day ( _is it the fourth?_ ) of almost pure isolation. She's tried to make a point, but its not working. The Council isn't going to budge on this. So when Obi-Wan ( _very hesitatingly_ ) walks in, she takes her time before looking at him. Trying her best to hide the rawr, desperate longing, to not show a hint of the suffocating panic she's been in. He holds this visit's tray of food and waits, seeing if he's going to have to leave it by the door again or not. When she doesn't acknowledge him, he moves to set it on the bed before moving towards his normal position...

"A calendar, something to mark it with, and a clock," she said, struggling to keep desperation from her voice, looking up at him, struggling to keep the pleading out of her eyes, "Get me those, and I'll talk to you again."

Obi-Wan hesitates.

And she feels the red rage again, her entire body tensing. "Is that so much to ask? You have no idea what this cell is truly like, _Jedi_. You who get to leave when you so chose."

"You could leave at any time," he countered softly, "If you would agree to try to return to the light, and mean it."

She looks away from him. "Of all the things I ever thought you were, I didn't think you were _cruel_."

"I care for you Siri," he said, his voice growing hard, "But that doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you. You are _dangerous_ , a _killer_ , a _Sith,_ and are largely unrepentant. I don't see a reason to give you a split second to touch the Force and draw the Dark Side in just to alleviate whatever you're particularly feeling at the moment."

"Were it a different situation," she said with harsh wryness, "I might appreciate that steel in your spine. Might appreciate that cruelty to deny and deprive me of that constant, that anchor. Anything to try to get what you want."

"I really don't though."

"I'm not trying to be cruel," he said softly, concern in his voice, "But I'm not going to give an inch until I've learned all I need to learn, and I've started to bring you back."

She stared at him silently for a moment, considering her options. On pure stubborn instinct she wants to refuse to speak to him. She's bent to enough people's wills her entire life, and while she may lo... _care_ for him, that doesn't mean she will follow him like a love-struck animal. She weighs the continued isolation VS the admission of defeat VS actually having someone to talk to...

She also eyes the metal tray on the bed. Not for the food, but for the edge of it, she wonders if its sharp enough with her strength, and if she could be quick enough before he reached her. She dismisses the thought for now. She's not that desperate yet for a way out, but she's more than intelligent enough to know that her only ways out are either: Madness, fading away in this Force Suppression Cell, suicide, or the Jedi eventually giving up and executing her. Turning away from the Dark Side will most likely lead to madness or suicide anyway if what she felt with Ur Manka is any indication; she has years more of sins now, and in this cell she struggles carefully to either tip-toe around memories of her worst offenses ( _necessary sacrifices_ ), or force her mind empty...

Which more often than not has left her starting out of a stupor at random intervals. She doesn't think emptying herself in this room is a good idea, especially in this situation, but, boredom leads to a wandering mind, and there's only so many basic exercises and pacing in the cell she can do before she loses focus. If she can't keep her mind clear when her memories and conscious ( _why hadn't that thing died yet?_ ) start acting up, she'll tear herself apart...

On the thought of a way out though...

Was that entrance protected by a force field or a ray shield? If it was the latter, that would be a much quicker way to die.

Thoughts for later.

"You may stay," she said flatly, "But I'm not talking to you."

Obi-Wan gave her a look and turned around towards the entrance.

Siri had to struggle to hold back the desire to call out 'Wait!' Force, what is wrong with her? She's a kriffing Sith Apprentice! She's better than this. Force Suppression and isolation should be nothing to her compared to the shit Sidious put her through, hell, its not even a full solitary confinement with Obi-Wan popping in daily ( _even if it is for so few seconds sometimes_ ). She doesn't... she doesn't _need_ him. She doesn't need anything but herself! She steels herself as much as she can, and lets him walk out...

...and regrets it deeply the moment he was out of sight.

But like hell does that matter, her entire life is one massive regret at this point, whats one more?

* * *

By the seventh day Obi-Wan is starting to get vexed and deeply concerned. After the first few days Siri had given her ultimatum and refused to talk, he had asked Grandmaster for advice. Dooku had advised him to wait and not budge and inch, that she would start lessening her demands to something simpler, and eventually give in completely. That it was important to not give a prisoner any power over him. It had appeared to work initially, she had degraded her desire from being outside the cell to a simple calendar and clock...

Yet that request took him by surprise, its why he hesitated rather than just outright denied it.

The way her eyes gleamed and the hitch in her voice left him... unsettled. It was such a simple request, made in a desperate ( _as much as she tried to hide it_ ) way. Something in the cell ( _and the Force when he lef_ t) told him that emotion wasn't faked, and why would she fake it over so simple a thing? And why was it so important? It was the first time he had really sat down and considered it. He had been imprisoned or taken captive a few times in his life, though rarely for any extended period of time ( _and not that he couldn't get out of, most people underestimated what a Force Sensititve could do_ ), though Qui-Gon had to save him a few times. There was a tension of the whole thing, being in danger, or having your fate uncertain, he knew that. He also knew the cell was unsettling to be in as a Force Sensitive. He had expected her to be bored of course, Force knows he had been a few times. The loneliness and isolation he saw from her though... that was unexpected. He thought Darksiders were loners by nature.

The way she tried to hide that tiny flash of relief whenever he stepped into the cell...

...and in the reverse, how she looked slightly worse day by day.

He didn't need the Force to tell him that it wasn't ( _solely_ ) because of guilt eating her alive. It took until he mentioned it while sipping tea with Qui-Gon, Anakin at the table doing his homework before he got an answer why.

Anakin made a face up at him. "Do Jedi really do that? Stick people all alone in cells for awhile?"

"She's dangerous...," said Obi-Wan slowly, not sure where the boy was going.

"Yeah, but... all prisoners are dangerous, right? And prisons usually have other prisoners to talk to, other people like them," said Anakin, frowning at him, "I remember Gardula doing something like this. If a slave pissed her off enough, and she didn't outright kill them or feed them to the Sarlacc, she'd throw them into a small room for a few weeks, sometimes longer, by themselves, feed em through a door. No one who went in ever came out the same after that..."

Obi-Wan gave him an utterly blank look. "I don't... but I go in and talk to her?"

"Well yeah, but... don't Jedi and Sith hate eachother from what I've heard?" asked Anakin, puzzled, "Wouldn't that just be worse?"

He and Siri didn't hate eachother. There is relief when she sees him, not hate...

Still...

Obi-Wan goes silent and pulls out his datapad, doing a different kind of research while Qui-Gon distracts Anakin by helping with his homework. His search on ' _isolation and prison_ ' led to various studies on inmates of different species, and eventually to the term ' _Solitary Confinement_ ', and the argued potential psychological effects of that left him very queasy, especially when some of which he's already seen, though the readings never said it would happen so quickly, especially with him there. Maybe its a stacking of different things, the isolation, the guilt, the Force Suppression, not to mention the issues a Sith naturally has. Either way, Siri may deserve to be punished, for justice to be met out, but not like _that_. He personally had hoped for her to earn penance through helping stop Sidious, and through going out and helping people as a Jedi should, by _redeeming_ herself. It may or may not be a fools dreams, but compassion is the Jedi way, _his_ way, even if some Jedi would rather go with cold hard logic.

So, when he's done his tea at Qui-Gon's apartment, he grabs a few spare credit chips he had stashed away from his time as a padawan, and goes to buy a small wall clock ( _He's to stubborn to give in completely to what she wanted, so its a compromise_ ). He also decides, that even if she refuses to talk to him, he'll at least stay an hour or so each day. Perhaps Dooku's 'strategy' might have worked, maybe it wouldn't, all the Force faintly tells him on that matter is he was playing a _very_ dangerous game that could have either worked or blown up in his face. Regardless of that, he's not cruel, and he's not going to risk permanently damaging Siri needlessly.

On the eighth morning of nothing more than ' _good morning - get ou_ t', when he walks in and tacks the clock to her cell wall, he's... unprepared for the way her eyes go comically wide, for the shake of her arms, the shudder down her spine. She looks like shit, and he's fairly certain she's stopped using the fresher to wash herself or change into any of the other provided clothing for the last few days now.

Vindication mixes with guilt, and he's not sure how he feels.

He watches Siri take a long moment to gain control of herself, but even when she does, its not that same joyfully sadistic facade she usually has. Is there a way for someone to seem both brittle and yet hostile at the same time? It's the weirdest thing, especially the lowness of her voice, "What do you want for it?"

"Just... to pick up where we left off," he said, his voice more uncertain then he should show.

He moved to slide down the wall to his usual spot, which is now underneath the clock. "You had said something about stagnation being death?"

Siri closed her eyes. "You wouldn't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

She pursed her lips, opening her eyes and staring up at the clock over his head; he's not blind to the way her eyes follow the tick-tick of the hand. "It requires an understanding of what a Sith really _IS_."

She frowned briefly before muttering, "Or at least what they're supposed to be."

Obi-Wan raised a questioning eyebrow, but she never looked down from the clock to see it. "Alright, explain what a Sith is supposed to be then."

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion."

"Through passion, I gain strength."

"Through strength, I gain power."

"Through power, I gain victory."

"Through victory, my chains are broken."

"The Force shall free me."

"What do those words mean to you?" she asked, her eyes still trailing the lower hand of the clock.

"I'm assuming that's a code of some kind," said Obi-Wan; and despite the lack of the Force in the cell, there is a chill crawling down his spine.

"The Sith Code," she agreed.

"Well, the first line is wrong," he answered, "There is peace as much as their is passion."

"There is no emotion, there is peace," she shot back.

Ah, there was the mocking, he was wondering where it had gone off to. "I believe we are discussing the Sith Code at the moment, not the Jedi one. Though, one mirrors the other..."

There isn't the slightest hint of amusement on her face. "You see that line as just an twisted reflection, but it's not. Peace is an agent of stagnation, it means the lack of conflict. Conflict is a constant law of the universe, it drives both physical and technological evolution. It forces you to better yourself in order to survive and thrive. How much has the galaxy progressed because of one conflict or another? And I'm not just talking about wars. Diseases, natural disasters, rivalries, competitions, physical limitations, all of that and more forces one to overcome. If we accepted peace, we'd just roll over and die when something _unpleasant_ came our way. Peace is an unnatural _aberration_."

Obi-Wan takes his time thinking it over, and Siri doesn't rush him, her eyes still glued to that clock with something akin to fanatical devotion if he were to admit it. "Is that moment of peace truly so awful? A chance to recuperate, recover, to rest your weary bones?"

"That's what sleeping is for," she said dryly, "Though, Sidious says he doesn't sleep."

Obi-Wan blinked. "That's impossible, everyone needs to sleep."

"Through the Force, all things are possible," she mocked back, "I personally think he just meditates when he would normally sleep, scrying the future, going over his plans. Or maybe he lies, who knows. For me its a way to explain how he's so in control of everything and ten steps ahead of ideas I can only start wrapping my mind around."

Obi-Wan... doesn't automatically deny it a second time. Lets himself weigh the importance and _danger_ of a foe who gets so much extra time to formulate his plans and plot where normal people, even Jedi, go to sleep and rest. If he's really spending hours each night trying to probe the Force for hints and clues and visions... especially if the Sith is unclouded where the Jedi are not...

The possibility of it makes his skin _crawl_. "Do you mind if I warn the council of that?"

"Go ahead," she says dismissively.

He makes a note of it on his datapad and sets it down afterwards. "You're not wrong in that conflict does encourage progress. But, is the Sith's default way of brutal war and struggle really the best way?"

"It's the only way we're allowed by you Jedi," she said flatly, "The only peaceful attempts there were to co-exist died with the First Great Schism and the follow up Hundred-Year Darkness, and everything after that just had to much history for their to be anything else."

Obi-Wan had done some reading ahead on the history of the Jedi and the Sith ( _what was allowed by the Archives, and what Dooku was willing to impart_ ), so he wasn't completely clueless this time. "Peaceful? I was under the impression the Dark Jedi of those times tried to corrupt and convert, then destroy when that didn't work. That's hardly co-existence."

There was a flash of annoyance on her face. "History is written by the victors, Obi-Wan, can you be so sure that was what really happened?"

"Can you be sure of what you know either?" he countered back, "That what you learned wasn't a spiteful or manipulative story? That seems more in-line with the Sith."

She hums to herself for a moment, now there is amusement on her face, though he wishes she would take her eyes of that clock and make eye contact. "Funny that, neither of us can trust some of our predecessors."

"I have trust in mine," he rebutted, "Which is more than you can say for _any_ and _all_ of yours."

Apparently, that was enough to get her to look away from the clock, and its not in a good way. She glares at him, eyes hot with rage. "Sidious yes, but I'd trust Zannah more than I'd trust any _Jedi_."

Obi-Wan blinked. "Who is Zannah?"

Siri's eyes widen with self-directed fury before she closes herself off. "No one you'd know. We're done for today."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and completely ignored that, mentally jotting down 'Zannah' to try and look up, was there a possibility of a third Sith? "As for the second line of your code, passion does lead to strength I suppose."

That admission is enough to douse her anger, and she blinks owlishly at him.

He gives her a self-depreciating smile. "You'd have to be ignorant not to admit that. You can see it in people's everyday lives, how their passion towards their jobs, families, duties, can drive them."

Siri doesn't spring on his words. That owlish look fades, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at him, waiting.

Ah, she was learning as much as he was. "However, being consumed by your passions, losing control of them, also has consequences, there's a reason someone came up with the term 'Crimes of Passion', and that's its actually recognized and used in court. As Force Sensitives, those consequences are more... _severe,_ because of how the Force reacts to our emotions. We must control those emotions because of how disastrous things can become when we lose control, we have a responsibility, as trained Force Sensitives, to do so."

She yawned at him and went back to staring at the clock.

Obi-Wan has to struggle to catch the brief flare of agitation. He thought that explanation was rather on point. "Is there something I said that you disagree with?"

"You assume a Sith loses control," she said with a dismissive sniff, "That a Sith is ruled and controlled by their passions."

Her voice turned harsh. "Ignorant. That is not what a Sith _**IS**_."

He gave her an honestly puzzled look. "You're going to have to explain it to be then, because that's exactly what I think a Sith is."

Siri snickered, but it wasn't an amused one, it was dark, hissing. "A Sith rules their passions, owns them, controls them, aims them, draws power from them. Letting them run free would get us revealed or killed very easily. Sometimes we let them loose to vent the buildup if we can not maintain it, or just to satisfy ourselves, occasionally we may lose control, but make no mistake, our emotions belong to us, not the other way around."

Obi-Wan thinks back to Bruck, thinks back to Xanatos, and says quietly, "And that's what differentiates you from normal Dark Jedi."

Siri seems pleased that he understood the difference. "Yes."

Obi-Wan... really isn't sure what to do with this information, aside from argue. "If I understands it right, emotions are a source of power, a weapon and tool for the Sith, rather than part of their being. Isn't that just as unnatural as you'd accuse a Jedi of being?"

She looks down from the clock, confused. "Excuse me?"

"Jedi you accuse of being emotionless machines," he said, "Sith however you are making to weaponize their emotions, rather than a natural part of them."

She wrinkles her nose at him.

"Its true though, isn't it?" he asked, he had a _feeling_ about this, "You still deny yourself emotions, only using ones you deem useful, and only as weapons rather than how normal sentients simply feel theirs. How is that any more natural that what the Jedi do?"

She gritted her teeth. "A Jedi lecturing me about not using emotions is, at best, hypocritical, and leaves much to be desired."

"If you can yell at me for sidestepping an issue, you better believe I'll do the same for you," he said pointedly.

She looked away for a long moment. "I had thought about it once, trying to use other emotions for power, or as the focus of my meditation. Never went through with it and bothered. It... wasn't what Sidious had instructed, and anything like grief or doubt or guilt sapped at my power when I felt them, so... I just never tried. Figured there was a reason no recorded Sith had used other emotions."

Considering how love had disrupted her out of that dark and twisted state, he had a hunch positive emotions literally weakened the Dark Side. Though academically he wondered if that was as a whole for all darksiders, for the Sith, or for specifically whatever Siri had become at that moment in Naboo. He didn't quite know. She still hadn't answered about whether it was unnatural or not. He wondered if she had ever actually considered it before...

Surprisingly, he doesn't have to prod her a second time. "Maybe it is unnatural. But a Sith is a constant, changing entity. We will do what we must to achieve our goal, regardless if it is beyond nature."

"Right, your goal," he said flatly, "Killing all the Jedi."

Siri shrugged. "If you say so."

Obi-Wan's breathing hitched slightly. "You don't... care about that?"

"It's more Sidious's thing than mine; I care about cleaning up this shithole of a galaxy, bringing order to the chaos, destroying the corruption that plagues it, wiping clean the Republic and creating a prosperous and lasting empire, _my empire,_ " she said hungrily before growing dismissive, "The Jedi most likely would stand in the way of that, wouldn't have the _will_ , the _vision_ , the _strength_ , to do what is necessary. I don't particularly care either way if they live or die, it's nothing personal."

On one hand, he should be relieved shes not hell-bent on destroying the Jedi. On the other hand... galactic domination. If there ever was a key Sith trait according to history, that was it. Not to mention how... nonchalant she is about the potential destruction of the Jedi, she's not for or against it. Had she stayed loose, and got into a position to dominate, if they got in her way, she'd destroy them. No no, focus on the positives, if she wasn't frothing at the mouth to kill Jedi like the Sith of old were implied to, as her Master wants to, he'll be much better off in this effort.

"Shesh, you look like you just won the lottery," she said with a tinge of disgust in her tone, "Wipe that look off your face Obi-Wan."

He scowled at her. "I can't be happy that you're not _specifically_ out to butcher my family?"

 _Something_ passed across her face. "The Jedi aren't your _family_ , you don't know the meaning of that word."

He could argue that all day long, but he settled with, "And you do?"

"Better than you," she shot back, "I've watched families from afar before, Obi-Wan, neither of us have had anything like that. At best, we're part of two separate _cults_."

He had a rebuttal forming on his lips, but... the envy, jealousy, desire and longing written so clearly on her face and in her eyes killed it; her words were made to be cutting, but all he took from that was she had went out of her way to see what a family of normal people looked like. It turned his reply soft instead. "There are many different kinds of family, Siri. Maybe its not as you'd define it, but to me, the Jedi are mine. Can you honestly say the Sith are yours?"

She averts her eyes back to the clock, lips tight together, not answering.

He considered that a win though, because there's no way _family_ tortures one another like the Sith do.

"Through strength, I gain power," he muttered, "That's... a rather redundant line, isn't it?"

"I don't know, is it?" she retorts in a clipped tone.

"I'm assuming you differentiates strength and power," he said, "What do they mean to you?"

Siri sighed softly. "In basic terms for your _feeble_ Jedi mind, strength is personal, power is what is used over others."

"Well you're feeling nasty again," he said offhandedly.

"I'm a nasty person," she answered snidely.

"I see that."

She huffed, but didn't respond.

"Through power, I gain victory," he sounded out, "Is fairly self-evident unless there's a hidden meaning...?"

"Not in particular, it depends on what kind of victory you're thinking about," she answered, "Sometimes, that victory can be more symbolic than physical."

"How so?"

She just shook her head, refusing to answer.

Obi-Wan figured he wasn't going to honestly get much more out of her this visit, but, he'd at least finish that code of hers. "Through victory, my chains are broken. What kind of chains?"

"If you ask Sidious," she said quietly, "What happened on Naboo would be an example of this. When I broke free of my last chain, and made to sever it."

Obi-Wan went silent for a long moment. "Me? You view me as a _chain_?!"

She shrugged. "You hold me back Obi-Wan, there's not a question in the matter. The only decision is if I wear that chain willingly or not."

"Caring for other people **_ISN'T_** a chain," he can't help but get heated, because this is _wrong,_ he is _not_ a chain, he is _not_ some kind of slave collar, that she would even think that threatens to send him into a spiral he doesn't know if he'll come out of without hours of meditation, "Everyone has darkness in them Siri, a potential monster within. This line of your code I take as nothing more than breaking the chains on that monster and letting it out."

"If you're going to badmouth my code without even trying to understand it, get out," she snarled.

"The Force shall free me," he said flatly, "What will the Dark Side free you of? Compassion? Care? Love? Being a good person? _Congratulations_ Siri, it looks like it's worked so far."

She's glaring at him full force, slowly standing up from her bed, body tense with fury.

He points a finger at her, angry, hurt, not able to keep either out of his voice, "I am perhaps one of the last people alive who truly cares for you. I **_NOT_ ** a chain Siri. Don't you _ever_ call me that again."

Her fury ebbs, and a hesitant look crossed her face. "Obi-Wan... I..."

He turns to the door. "I think that's enough, we're not going to be able to continue today without wounding eachother. We'll pick this back up another time with cooler heads. Enjoy the clock."

He storms out, ignoring the guards, ignoring any Jedi he passes in the halls, ignoring his own Master when the man gives him a questioning nudge down their bond. He retreats to his quarters, kneels down on the floor, and pushes himself desperately into meditation to release the bungle of emotions swarming through him...

* * *

She shouldn't have asked for the clock.

It makes things so much worse.

Now she's aware of how much time she's losing. She stares at it, drawn in by the soft tick-tick-tick. She blinks, and ten minute are gone. Sometimes twenty, sometimes thirty. Yet she can't help but be lulled into that soft sound, the only thing not of her own making that isn't the annoying hum of the force fields serving as her door. It's an all-consuming mechanical entity. Was it better losing herself to blankness than...

_"There are many different kinds of family, Siri. Maybe its not as you'd define it, but to me, the Jedi are mine. Can you honestly say the Sith are yours?_

Than _that?_ She didn't know.

She growled under her breath, and for the hell of it, tried. Sidious as the sadistic possessive father. Plaguies as the sadistic critical grandfather. Zannah as the crazy dead-but-kinda-not aunt, the ghosts of Korriban as distant snide relatives, Bane's holocron as the omnipresent family member whose legacy everyone had to live up to who would kill you if you were found wanting, Maul as...

No, he doesn't get included.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She'd give Obi-Wan the win on this one. Zannah... maybe counted, but it was hard to tell sometimes. Kriffing hell, she tried to body jack Siri the first time they met, though, Siri would admit she was being pitiful at the time and maybe deserved it. She sighed to herself and tried to wrench her eyes away from the clock, staring at a wall...

_Tick-tick-tick..._

Siri blinked, staring at the clock, finding herself an hour later. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, aching for the feel of the Dark Side to wrap and hide herself in...

_"What will the Dark Side free you of? Compassion? Care? Love? Being a good person? Congratulations Siri, it looks like it's worked so far."_

Siri growled, went for the clock, ripped it off the wall, and chucked it at the force field, only for it to bounce back and conk her upside the head. She staggered a bit, swearing under her breath and rubbing her forehead. Guess that answered if it were a ray shield or not, woulda fried the clock of it was. She grabbed the clock and tossed it into the far corner of the fresher room, moving back to her bed. There was still the faintest tick-tick-tick echoing in her ears, earning a twitch from her.

" _What will the Dark Side free you of?"_

"Shut up Obi-Wan," she hissed quietly to herself, "It... it'll free me from Sidious... or it would have if I wasn't stuck in this damn cell."

" _Compassion? Care? Love?"_

She gritted her teeth, covering her ears, trying to drown out his voice.

" _Congratulations Siri, it looks like it's worked so far."_

Siri got up, grabbed the bottom of her bed, and tried to rip it off the floor to throw across the room with all her strength. She cringed instead when it only served to almost pull her arms out of her sockets. Of course they'd kriffing bolt it to the floor. Karking Jedi. She ran a hand through her hair, breathing shakily.

" _it looks like it's worked so far."_

She screamed in rage, running to pound a fist into the wall over and over again, the pain a blissful, bloody release. Which, she regretted after the brief moment of rage had passed, now she just had an painfully throbbing hand. She went to the fresher and ran it under water...

_Tick-tick-tick..._

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the wall, stress bleeding into her voice. "It would have been kinder to kill me..."

* * *

The first thing the Jedi did when he walked in the following morning ( _she assumed it was the next day_ ) was ask, "Where did your pillow and the clock go?"

"The pillow is in the fresher smothering the clock."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her, she returned the look with the universal _'kriff you'_ symbol. "Do you want me to come back lat..."

"NO!" she bolted upright, unable to keep the panic off her face before she swallowed and tried a more even, "No."

He looked at her with unguarded concern before his eyes flickered to her hand. "What happened there?"

"An unfortunate accident with the wall," she said flatly.

"I see," he said, lips tight, "Do you want a medkit?"

"No," she growled out, tensing.

He took a step back and held up his hands defensively. "Okay, okay. If you're not in the mood..."

"Just... just sit in your spot," she said shakily, "No... no kriffing talks, just... just..."

She bowed her head, struggling with herself. She needed to get out of here, needed to get out of here...

She tensed when the bed shifted, her eyes flickering to see Obi-Wan hesitatingly sitting down next to her, scooting to press his back against the wall. She swallowed a bit, fighting the urge to do the same successfully for about thirty seconds before she succumbed, back pressed against the wall, shoulders brushing his. She closed her eyes and took in a shaky breath, letting it out, just... just trying to steady herself.

"An accident," he said mildly, "Is that what you call that red smear on the wall over there?"

"Shut up Obi-Wan," she growled under her breath, and considered it a blessing when he did.

They sat there in silence for awhile, the only sound their breathing, one far more steady then the other...

She blinked awake sometime later when she felt a pained throb in her hand and a prick of something being injected into it, hissing and opening her eyes to see Obi-Wan standing in front of her, pulling a small painkiller away, an open med kit on her bed. She yanked her hand away and glared at him.

"Ah, awake I see," he said.

"Obviously," she growled out.

"Hand please."

"I can treat myself."

"Mhm, of course you can," he said flatly, "When's the last time you used a healing trance again? Master Che implied its been awhile if all the trace chemicals and toxins she found in you was any indication."

Siri chose not to answer that.

"Hand please," he said again.

She scowled and held it out, watching as he gently pulled out a light bacta-patch, wrapped it over her knuckles, and then bandaged the hand. She... stared at the process with a blank look, not sure how to process what he was doing. It was so simple, but...

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she muttered, "Just... can't remember the last time anyone..."

She trailed off.

The last time anyone who wasn't a clinical med-droid had ever personally taken care of her ( _Master Ur Manka her mind whispers, but she shoves the thought away, he betrayed her_ ). Judging by the look on his face, she didn't need to finish that sentence anyway. There was a cloud of brief anger on his face followed by sadness and grief. She yelped when he pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry Siri."

She froze up for a moment before squeaking out, "Let go."

He just pulled her in tighter. She struggled against him, trying to shove him away. "L-let go!"

Obi-Wan sighed, but obeyed. "Why is compassion so repulsive to you Siri?"

"Because," she snarled, scooting away from him, "I'm not weak enough to need it."

He gave her a patient look that made her want to slash it off his face. "Compassion is not dependent on someone being weak or strong, it is freely given by those who feel it for others. I've know so little of your time as a Sith, but what I've learned thus far is horrifying to me. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"Not just anyone is strong enough to endure it," she spat out.

"Survive seems a more apt word," he said mildly.

"Semantics."

"It's really not," he countered before closing his eyes and sighing. "Just take what's offered Siri, its been lacking from your life far to much from the last eight years."

She sneered at him. "Because Jedi are all hugs with one another?"

Obi-Wan's mouth twitches into a smile.

She stands up off the bed, making him step back as she points a finger at him. "Qui-Gon Jinn does not count!"

"That's unfair!"

"Life's unfair, deal with it."

"Jedi offer comfort to one another in plenty of ways Siri," he said pointedly, "Perhaps you've merely forgotten since you _insisted_ on not fixing your head."

She groaned. "Are we discussing this _again_?"

"A soft brush of shoulders, meditating together, asking one another to spar to distract us from our sufferings or to alleviate emotions, sitting by our bed if we are in the halls of healing or ill in our quarters, is any of this familiar Siri?" he asked, "Or should I go on?"

"Must everything you say be an argument?"

"Coming from the Sith whose order relishes conflict?"

Siri's mouth snapped shit. That clever son of a bitch...

He gave her a well-pleased smile, it was charming really.

She punched him in the face.

She couldn't help it.

He staggered back and clutched his nose, his voice wheezing through his fingers, "Siri!"

"You asked for it Kenobi," she said, not an ounce of shame or guilt in her at all for that one, "Egging on a Sith is a _terrible_ idea."

It appeared she had found an absolutely _marvelous_ way to win an argument with him.

"I fink you brovk my nosh," he said, a whine to his voice.

"Well it's a good thing there's a med kit in here, isn't there?" she said, moving over to grab, a deviously-delighted smile crossing her face, "Sit down."

He gave her a wary look, but did so.

"I might have to set your nose first, but don't worry Obi-Wan," she said, putting as charming a look as she could on her face, "I'll be ' _gentle_ ' and ' _compassionate_ '."

_CRACK_

"OWW! Siri! That's _NOT_ gentle!"

"For a Sith it is, stop whining you big baby, here, let me get the painkiller and _jab_ it in."

"No no no I heard that tone! You keep that needle well away from me Siri Tachi!"

"Careful Jedi, fear leads to the Dark Side."

"You are a spiteful, spiteful woman."

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: 1 or 2 more of these I think before the Palpatine interrupts Obi-Wan's work. (Might be minor time skips in the next 2 if I don't want to stretch the Guide chapter duration out longer to allow for more exposure to the cell).


	32. The Guide (Part Eight)

Siri had put the clock back on the wall.

She told herself it was because she wanted her pillow back, and the faint tick-tick-tick from the fresher room was more irritating than the louder one when it was in here. Truthfully, it was mostly to have something to do between Obi-Wan's visits. Watching minutes, and then hours disappear right infront of her was more engaging that staring at a wall all the time she supposed, despite the inner terror it churned up in her gut as the gaps in which she blanked out steadily grew longer. He came every day, for at least an hour, without breaks in days, even if they got particularly viscous the day before. It was a steady thing, as weeks turns into the first ( _second?_ ) month. She wasn't certain how long she had been in here anymore, the only constant being Obi-Wan.

She appreciated his visits, even if she didn't say so.

But she wasn't blind either.

He was less pressing, not to say he didn't poke and inquire about her past, but he let her ( _there was always a knowing look in his eye_ ) lead them offtopic when she decided enough was enough. She knew what he was doing, trying to build a rapport with her, make her more comfortable around him. She recognized it because she'd done it herself with more... _delicate_ targets Sidious sent her after, where she couldn't just threaten or kill their objective. Building fake-trust to learn their secrets or influence their decision making, bonus points since she was female, that generally made it easier even if she wanted to kill people for stereotyping her like that. The problem was Obi-Wan was so easy to be comfortable around... when they weren't bickering like a married couple.

Force, another point in Obi-Wan's favor if he'd been a Sith. Loose lips were a dangerous thing, and it was so easy to forget to be onguard around him...

Especially when he was making her reliant on him for her sanity. She wasn't blind on _that_ either, even if she didn't think he was intentionally doing so. He was a Jedi, they didn't have it in them to do something like that. He probably thought he was _helping_ more than anything. Maybe he was, but...

She had no desire to turn away from the Dark Side. Did he think she didn't know her life was an awful cruel mess? She told him she was a monster, it wasn't something she was ignorant of. It still felt like more of a life than she could faintly remember having as a Jedi. When she had down time ( _more like when she created it for herself_ ), she could go where she wanted, enjoy herself, partake in life's pleasures, rather than be bound to the temple when not on a mission. Honestly, get rid of Sidious and she would have been _fine_ on her own. Galactic domination aside... living the high life with Alexi and Mighella wouldn't have been bad. Siri Tachi, Black Sun special operative, superior to a Vigo. She never would have been left for wanting...

Would it have been fulfilling in the long run?

Who knows.

"...iri?"

Siri blinked into focus. When had she lost focus? When had he entered the room? "Obi-Wan."

He stood a few feet from her bed, that ever-worried look his face plastered there. Worried, but doing nothing else but pestering her. "Do you often make a habit of zoning out like that? It's starting to become a frequent thing when I come to visit."

Oh, he had _no idea_. She warred with telling him what he's actually doing to her by keeping her in this cell VS letting him figure it out on his own. Blanking out and just... _not coming back_ would eventually happen, she'd be gone, and wouldn't that be a vindictive thing to do to him? There is so much built up frustration and resentment that she's not completely against hurting him like that anymore. That devotion to him slowly ebbs day by day. And it's not like she's not dead anyway, if not to the Jedi, than to Sidious at some point. Going out in a way of her choosing was better than nothing, lashing out and harming those who led her to that end, even if the choices available were absolute shit.

She thinks what it would do to him. The crushing guilt, the grief, the sense of failure. She absently wonders if it would be enough to turn him Dark. She's grown resentful enough to not care that much about afflicting him with that life. But no, he didn't fall the first time she supposedly died, she doubted he would if she really did go. It's odd. He doesn't let go, he lingered for nearly eight years on a memory of a girl that's dead ( _She is Siri, but she knows she's not the Siri that he once knew, not anymore_ ), but that attachment doesn't rule his actions. It may influence them, but it doesn't control him; her death would hurt him badly, but it wouldn't ruin him as the prospect of his death had once ruined her; and as much as she hates to admit it, that kind of strength to keep on going impresses her, even if she wished him to never let go of her. Though fading away wouldn't technically kill her, her body would still be there after all, they'd probably keep her in the Halls of Healing, comatose.

Except...

Sidious would eventually burn the temple to the ground, and Siri didn't put it past him to figure out a way to yank her back from mental oblivion just to make her suffer before he killed her. If she is to 'die', it has to be a permanent way. Because she knows there are many forms of torture Sidious hasn't _graced_ her with yet. If she felt herself about to slip away for what she'd believe was the final time, she'd tear her wrists open with her teeth to make sure death stuck...

* * *

Obi-Wan decided he really didn't look the like on Siri's face. The blankness when he had walked in... and chilling acceptance that was on it now. He had seen that kind of thing before, just... not to that degree. It distinctly and disturbingly reminded him of Mandalore, of that year on the run with Satine. The Mandalorians that helped or fought them choosing how and where to die. Whatever she was thinking, she needed to stop thinking it.

Distraction and deflection then. "While I've ' _enjoyed'_ our philosophical, cultural, and historical debates, if you're willing, could we continue where we left off on what happened to you specifically? If I remember, you said he had been teaching you how to meditate with the Dark Side?"

That chilling look on her face turned into a pout. "Do we have to, dearest?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you the one who threatened to, I quote, 'Kick me in the dick' if I flirted with you like you just flirted with me?"

She grinned. "Do as I say not as I do."

He rolled his eyes and drawled out, "Yes ' _Master'_."

"Mmm, I like the sound of you calling me that," she said, raising her eyes suggestively.

He gave her a disproving look, and she just sighed. "You're no fun."

"I'm not trying to be," he answered bluntly.

She crossed her arms and pouted at him...

...and Obi-Wan had to get over the mental whiplash, yet again, about how much of the old Siri he knew was gone or replaced. Where did that young, serious young woman go? "If you could continue...?"

She rolled her eyes. "Pushy aren't you?"

He gave her a flat look.

"You try so hard with that baby face of yours," she mused, "Its more adorable than condescending."

He flushed a bit, scowling. "Just for that, I'm growing a beard."

She made a face. "Bleh, facial hair."

"Anytime now Siri."

She closed her eyes for a moment, wrinkling her nose, before opening them and giving him a foul look. "Fine fine. After Sidious instructed me in meditation, he began explaining some of the finer aspects of the Dark Side, especially in types of anger."

"Types?"

"Like different wines, some better than others," she said, a bemused smile on her face, the sharpness of her eyes told a different story though, "Righteous anger is what I first tasted, but that's not particularly helpful for a Sith unless its accompanied by hate. Petty anger is tinder, little bursts that keep your power at a desired level, or at a starting point to burst higher."

Her smile faded. "There are two primary types of anger a Sith. Hot and cold, _fire_ and _ice_. Explosive fury, or controlled and cultivated hate. You've seen me use both, on Naboo..."

Nothing short of sadism coated her face. "Do you remember, _Jedi_?"

Obi-Wan swallowed and took a reflexive step back.

"Your master backhanded me, insulted me," she purred, eyes flashing, "And I exploded in rage, threw him down that walkway with my lightning like the trash he is. That is an example of the first type, good for a quick burst, but if you let it rule you, it will impair your judgement."

"Tell me Obi-Wan, do you remember when I started using the _other_ kind?" she whispered, eyes boring into his darkly, "In the ray shields, when I caught Qui-Gon alone? Do you recall the chill in the air? The veil of the Dark Side draping you in it's icy hold, ripping the guidance of the Force from you? Do you remember that moment I ascended? I became a true Sith? Do you, little Jedi? Do you remember the _**power** _ I wielded?"

Obi-Wan turned and walked ( _ran_ ) out of the cell, shivers rolling down his spine. He refused, _refused_ , to be in the same room as her right now when... when the _monster_ was well and truly out to see. When he saw nothing of the Siri he remembered in her...

* * *

Siri, in the interest of not having only five minutes of company two days in a row, reigned herself in when Obi-Wan walked in the next _(?)_ day. She tilted her head to the side, eyes on him, waiting for him to speak. Considering he didn't even start with a 'good morning', he was still skittish over their last exchange. Honestly, he faced her down when she was well and truly a Sith, he ought to have more of a spine for regular moments, not just do-or-die ones. Ah well, he's a Jedi, beggars couldn't be choosers.

"I did not instruct you," she began in a neutral voice, "Of the types of anger just for you to walk out on me, Obi-Wan. I was stressing a _point_."

"And what point was that?" he bit out, "That the Dark Side turns you into an utter monster when you're wrapped in it?"

She sighed, irritation bleeding through her, "The point was to show you the strength of each kind of anger. Cold rage, icy hate, is the most long lasting and powerful type of emotion a Sith of my line uses. Sidious, is a master of that kind of hate, and a least ten times stronger than I am."

Obi-Wan hesitated. "Times...?"

"I saw him and Darth Plagueis fight, Obi-Wan," she murmured, "I'm the only living Force Sensitive that has any kind of clue just how powerful Sidious truly is. There isn't a single Jedi, save perhaps Yoda, that could survive him, let alone hope to fight him if he's not toying with you."

"So what, you're saying he's invincible?" said Obi-Wan flatly.

"He might as well be so long as he remains hidden in the shadows," she answered in equal flatness, "Getting him into the light, revealing and getting him into a confrontation would be hard enough on its own, but beating him? Unless you play heavily on the strength of the Light, you don't stand a chance."

He visibly perked up. "Well now, a Sith acknowledging the strength of the opposition?"

"Oh get off your high horse," she said with a scowl, "If you Jedi didn't have _some_ kind of strength, the Sith would have wiped out your kind thousands of years ago."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Alright, what exactly are you talking about then?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious?"

He raised an eyebrow back. "I'm assuming your not referring to some kind of ability?"

Idiot. "I'm referring to your _numbers_. The fact that Jedi can and will work together without stabbing eachother in the back. That is the strength of the Light, in unity, the strength of _many_. The strength of the Dark Side is in solitude, the strength of _self_. A real Sith will almost always be stronger than any individual Jedi, baring some exceptional individuals or situations."

Obi-Wan slowly nodded. "I suppose. Though, I think a fair many individuals in our order would surprise you."

Her lips peeled back in amusement. "Can you name anyone who isn't a council member or a renowned master who would have been able to stand up to me on Naboo?"

He scowled at her, and she returned a smug smile.

She tilted her head back, memories going for the early days of her apprenticeship. She recalled how she was taught how to hide her presence, but decided to keep those details to herself if she ever got a chance to make a break for it. Then again... if she really stops to think of it, if she steps outside this temple, she's dead. Even if she's using Zannah's sorcery to hide herself, she can't trust that she could stay hidden from Sidious long enough to grow strong enough to challenge him. This prison is also her sanctuary, and oh doesn't she hate how that grates.

She diverts away from abilities of the Dark Side. "After, he instructed me on history, debating the code, stuff like that. We did that for a few days, and after that was when the killings began."

She frowned for a moment, watching him tense, and decided to throw him a bone. "It served little purpose, in just bringing random people in for me to kill. I think it could have been done over time, through missions, with real targets chosen for real purposes, but, Sidious wanted to deaden me to it as fast as possible I suppose."

"And... you felt nothing about it?" he asked quietly.

She made a face. "Monsters aren't made in a day Obi-Wan. Of course I felt guilty about it, at least, at first. Hells, he literally fried a pair of children in front of me with his lightning. Have you ever seen something like that? The body spasm, eyeballs burst, clothes caught of fire, skin melting and burning, there is smoke rising off the person. The stench of it is something you don't ever forget. It is one of the worst death's I've ever seen, even to this day, forced down my throat because of my stupidity."

The look of nausea on his face... oddly doesn't bring any comfort or elation to her. Frankly, she _still_ finds what Sidious did back then repulsive. Obi-Wan asks, his voice unsteady. "Stupidity?"

She gave him a twisted smile. "If I had just killed the children when he ordered me to, their death's would have been quick. I disobeyed, so he made it brutal."

"What kind of _hell_ did he crawl out of?" asked Obi-Wan, struggling to control his anger.

"I don't think hell is the correct description, he's worse than any fairy tale demon," she answered bluntly, "He did that lesson for a reason. The thing about killing so many people in such a short amount of time, Obi-Wan, is how it _deadens_ you. The twisting, disgusting, filthy sensation that you feel as you stain your hands with blood only lasts as long as it takes you to numb yourself to it."

She looked away from him for a long moment. "It takes something... _intense_... or perhaps someone important to me, to make me feel anything really negative out of death anymore. I simply... can't. Any guilt I feel here in this room... is it for the people I've killed? Or the simple actions of what I've done?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't really matter anymore."

There was an air of... depression. She hated herself for being weak enough to feel it. "I don't know why you bother Obi-Wan. Even if by some miracle you convince me to turn away from the Dark Side, I will never be the Siri Tachi you used to know. Make me feel the light, dress me up in Jedi robes, it won't matter. She's _gone,_ Obi-Wan. You don't come back from something like this anything like you were before. I'm just a monster wearing her skin. The only thing bringing me back will do is chain the beast and dropped a shattered husk at your feet that your forced to look after."

"Siri..."

She hates the _compassion_ in his voice. He shouldn't feel anything like that for her.

"Just... go away Obi-Wan," she muttered, scooting to the edge of her bed against the wall and bringing her knees up to her chest, "I'm done talking for the day."

The patter of his feet on the ground went in the direction opposite of what she wanted. He sat down next to her, his shoulder gently bumping hers. He said nothing, and neither did she, as the tick tick tick of the clock passed them by...

* * *

"So, what happened after the killings?"

Siri sighed, these days were dragging when they were blanking by for her. "I bled my first kyber crystal."

There was a flinch from him at that, drawing a small amused smile from her. "There's nothing quite like hearing it _scream_."

There is a tightness from his lips, she recognizes it and dials back anything else she could say to egg him into leaving. "He had me bleed a crate of them. It was during that time he taught me one of the most valuable lessons he ever gave me."

"Dare I ask what kind of sickening thing he did this time?" drawled Obi-Wan.

She snorted. "Nothing aside from picking apart a Jedi saying. 'Your lightsaber is your life' is an absolutely _stupid_ phrase to live by."

He gave her a blank look, and her lips peeled back, a harsh laugh escaping her mouth. "Not what you were expecting?"

"Well... no," he admitted, eyebrows furrowing, "Explain it to me."

"A lightsaber," she instructed, her voice serious, "Is a weapon. If it is destroyed or lost, do you simply give up and die?"

"Well, no," said Obi-Wan.

"Your body can be used as a weapon, objects around you can be used as a weapon. Beyond that, the Force itself is far more than a lightsaber will ever be. The saying, if one should even have one like that, is that 'The Force is your life'. Because honestly Obi-Wan, what does it say about the Jedi when supposed _peacekeepers_ swear by a weapon as their life?"

A contemplative look crossed his face. "A lightsaber is more than a weapon, Siri, it is a tool, and a symbol. How a Jedi uses one reflects back upon them and the Order."

Her lips peeled back, sneering. "Then you might want to check on how people outside your order view it, Obi-Wan. Because to the average person, a lightsaber is a _weapon_. It represents _death,_ not salvation, not heralding in a peacekeeper, but a killer, someone whose going to interfere with their lives, or be a snob and look down on them as lesser beings."

He gave her an incredulous look. "That's ridiculous, Siri."

She glared at him. "I've told you before Obi-Wan, if I speak and offer advice, you _listen_. Your precious Order, do you have any idea how failing your reputation is?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off, "And I'm not talking about the Core worlds, which benefit more readily from your Order. But the Mid and especially the Outer Rim worlds. Places that the Jedi rarely go in comparison. You have no clue to how little they care for you. So listen, and listen well, _Jedi_ : Your reputation, and how the public of the galaxy view you, is a weapon the Sith have been cultivating, and that your Order has been failing to reach out and maintain, since well before I was born."

"When Sidious moves to wipe out your Order, Obi-Wan," she said harshly, "The Galaxy will _applaud_ him for it. Or they won't care enough to challenge him over their fear of what comes after. Tell that to your foolish Council, and watch them deny and do _nothing_."

"The people of the Galaxy know we care for them," countered Obi-Wan, "Our mandate is compassion, to help the Republic, follow the will of the senate..."

She shook her head in disgust. "You've hardly been here for five minutes and I'm already sick of you. Get out, Jedi. Perhaps when you come back you'll have pulled your head out of your ass and realize that the Sith _own_ the Senate."

His eyebrows furrow, unease on his face. "What do you mean by _own_?"

"Out."

"Siri..."

"GET OUT!"

* * *

Siri blinked into focus at the sound of tap-tap-taping. She glanced over from her bed to see Obi-Wan sitting down in his usually spot against the far wall working on a datapad. "How long have you been there?"

He looks up with an almost snap like swiftness, a touch of relief on his face. "An hour, you didn't... really respond to anything I did."

She frowned intently, looking away.

"Siri, that wasn't ignoring me, you were just... not there if I had to guess," said Obi-Wan uneasily, "Siri, whats wrong with you? Whats going on? This has been happening to often. Is it something Sidious did? Something..."

"Unless you want me to throw you out of my cell," she snapped, "Drop it. Its not my problem you're too ignorant to understand the dangers of Force Suppression."

He gave her a bewildered look.

She sighed and shook her head. "Where were we? Bleeding Kyber crystals, right? Right. After that he took me for a 'field trip'."

Her lips curled. "Into the lower levels of Coruscant."

Her head tilted towards him, eyes piercing. "Have you ever gone down there?"

"I go to Dex's often enough," he answered.

She snorted. "Dex's, if I remember correctly, is _hardly_ lower level. I'm talking about going down deep and dirty, into the bowls of filth staining this world. Where trash and scrap are littered everywhere. Where drug addicts walk around in a daze or are hitting themselves up in broad daylight. There are corpses sometimes left around on the side streets or gutters. People are mugged or stolen from in the blink of an eye. I remember a public beating for someone not paying their 'protection money'."

She glowered at first, and then grinned. "I interrupted a rape and slaughtered the rapist that trip too. I took my time with that disgusting pig, you have no idea how much I enjoyed it."

There was a narrowing of Obi-Wan eyes. "Funny that Siri, because I seem to recall you calling yourself a rapist."

Siri froze for a moment, and then swallowed. "I... I only... only did that once."

"Only once?" he said sharply, "I think once is one time to many for something so foul."

Then his sharpness faded into curiosity. "Though, considering what else you said when you were freaking out... why did you even comment on it, if it was ' _only'_ one time?"

Wide open panic spread across her face. "Out. G...get out."

"Tell me Siri, is this something miss ' _it's all a necessary sacrifice_ ' regrets?" he asked pointedly.

She looked away, her breathing quickening, reflexively trying to draw on her anger and hate to smother what she felt, and feeling the sharp sting of backlash when she couldn't. "I... yes. Alright? I kriffing regret it! Are you happy? Want a pat on the head? A good job Obi-Wan for making me admit it? That of all the things I've done, that one is the one thing that was completely unnecessary?"

There was no triumph on his face, just sadness. "Then why did you do it?"

She wants to punch him, beat that compassion out of his face, so she goes for the most cutting thing she can say, even if in the back of her mind she's screaming ' ** _DON'T_** ' at herself. "It was a task given to me to get over my _infatuation_ with a certain Jedi Padawan."

He looked like he had been sucker punched, color draining out of his face, before fury and disgust took over. "Is there nothing the Sith won't corrupt or pervert? That... that Sidious had you rape someone to get over me? To destroy love? That's... I..."

He shook his head, got up, and left, unable to handle what she said. Funny enough, that hadn't been Sidious, that had been all Zannah. She watched him leave, saying nothing to draw him back in. He hardly knew the worst of it, that she had slapped an illusion of him onto her victim, that she had murdered the boy after. That even if she had been ordered to do it, she had still gone through with it, still tried to enjoy the fantasy. That was a secret she would take to her grave. She curled in on herself, feeling like she was covered in slime and filth, shaking.

She looked up at the clock, and wished she'd just fade away and never come back...

* * *

Siri yelped when something pin-pricked her neck, and something icy seemed to surge through her. She blinked rapidly and stared up at Obi-Wan, she faintly recognized Healer Che behind him. "Obi-Wan...?"

She blinked, her voice sounded hoarse, like she hadn't drank anything in a long while. There was relief on his face, he briefly moved to get a tray of food before bringing it to her. "Sit up."

He set it on her lap after she did so and took a few steps back, the worry on his face more interesting than the sudden churning of her stomach and aching of her throat. She glanced over at the healer, watching her fiddling with a scanner before raising an eyebrow at Siri. "Go ahead."

The red light briefly passed over her, and the Jedi nodded once before picking up a toolkit off the floor. Siri briefly caught sight of a vial of blood ( _her own?_ ), and another jar of hair and maybe skin samples, before the Jedi closed it and left. "So... whats that about?"

"Siri, please eat," said Obi-Wan, avoiding the question.

She scowled a little bit, but complied. She tore into it voraciously. Couldn't even help raising the tray to lick off the crumbs.

"Gross Siri."

She lowered the tray and wiped off her mouth. "Survival one o one. Waste not want not."

He gave a strained smile. "Do you want seconds?"

She frowned at him, ignoring the ' _yes_ ' that wanted to escape her lips. "What is it Obi-Wan?"

He hesitated briefly. "You... weren't reacting to anything for _days_ Siri. If the stim didn't work Master Che was going to hook you up to an IV."

Siri didn't visibly react, just pondered the words. There appeared to be a different in unwittingly blanking out, and _wanting_ _to_. "I see."

She held the tray out for him to take, disinterest on her face. She got up and stretched, briefly enjoying the sensation before she paced the cell, getting her legs moving and blood flowing. She sat back down on the bed after, and simply stared at him. "Shall we continue where we left off?"

"No, that's... alright," he said quietly, "Just relax for today."

She snorted. "Relax is all I do every day since I was imprisoned here."

"I'm not sure you understand the difference between brooding and relaxing," he said mildly.

She glowered at him. "I'm trapped in a Force Suppression cell, in the middle of the Jedi Temple, in a convert-or-die or at least stay in a cell for the rest of my life situation with you breathing down my neck every day, with Sidious out there probably trying to figure out how to kill me, with nothing to distract me from this. Do you really think I can _relax_?"

He was surprised. "You think he'd kill you?"

"You have no idea how badly I messed up on Naboo Obi-Wan," she said tiredly, "I was a true Sith for so short a moment, and then I lost it. I failed him completely and utterly. He will kill me if he gets his hands on me again, the only question is how long will it take and how long will I suffer."

She laid down, staring up at the ceiling, her voice bleak, "Damned if I do damned if I don't, Obi-Wan. There is no real future for me anymore. Naboo cost me everything, _you_ , cost me everything."

"You have a future here Siri, if you'd be willing to come back to the Jedi," he began, "We could keep you safe, protect you..."

She barked out a laugh. "You Jedi can't even save yourselves Obi-Wan, let alone me."

"I'm a dead woman Obi-Wan," she muttered, "One way or another."

"Is it so hard to have hope, Siri?" he asked softly.

"Hope?" she bit out, "I haven't had anything more than a fool's hope in eight years. If I want something, I don't _hope_ for it, I go out and _take it_. Hoping for something is a pointless thing."

He gives her a sad look, and the red haze rises over her eyes. "I don't want your _pity,_ Jedi."

He just shakes his head and moves to sit in his usual spot. He doesn't say anything, just stares at her with an air of grief and helplessness and care than makes her skin crawl. She doesn't want it ( _doesn't deserve it_ ). He stays far longer than usual, even after she rolled over away from him, staring at the wall to not have to see his eyes anymore. When he does finally leave, she lets herself shake, lets our her ragged breathing she held in..

* * *

"I got off track last time," said Siri as Obi-Wan walked in.

"Last time?" he asked.

"We were talking about the lower levels of Coruscant, right?" she said, cleanly overlooking her last few days apparently spent out of it, "Right, so, certainly you can't deny the state they're in."

Obi-Wan frowned first in recollection, then tilting his head to study her, perplexed. "I wouldn't think a Sith would _care_ about the impoverished."

"It's not my job to care," she said pointedly, "Unlike the _Jedi,_ unlike the _Republic_."

"Passing blame around?" he asked, sitting down against the far wall, crossing his arms, looking quite unimpressed with her.

"Assigning it properly," she answered smoothly, "Between the Jedi who do nothing while preaching compassion, and the Senate that is to corrupt to do their job. If I was in charge of the Galaxy, I'd force this shit to be cleaned up since none of you can be _bothered_ to."

"What would you have us do Siri?" asked Obi-Wan, "Jedi are limited in number. We have to go where we make the most impact..."

"And you trust the Senate to properly assign you?" she asked, snickering at his naivety, "A madhouse of corrupt politicians, where credits and backroom deals have more weight than the plight of those in need. Do you truly, and honestly, understand how corrupt and ineffective the Senate is?"

"By all means," he said dryly, "Enlighten me."

She gave him a predatory smile; right where she wanted him. "Sidious owns over half of them, directly or indirectly. I myself had a rather large collection of dirt I dug up on many members, some because Sidious ordered me to, others so I could use myself at some point."

Obi-Wan stares at her, his eyes a little wide, searching, _hoping_ for a lie. He finds none. "You're not joking."

"Extortion, black mail, bribery, unknowing gifts, owning stocks in their various companies, the capacity to threaten their families if they actually aren't corrupt, the list goes on and on Obi-Wan," she said, "And that's not even considering Senators that are like minded, who would follow Sidious willingly, or simply fall in line without much effort. The rest of the lot he probably wouldn't bother with because of their selfishness, to busy chasing their own aims and goals to get in his way."

She sees the horror in his eyes, and takes pity on him, she made her voice as gentle as she could manage. "Your Republic is already lost, Obi-Wan. It has been for awhile now. The best chance of the Jedi surviving is to erase all information on your members and scattering, _now_ , while they still have a chance, before Sidious can close the noose around your necks."

He gives her an incredulous look.

She doesn't twitch a muscle, just keeping her gaze level on him. "Its literally the only thing I can think of that would ensure a huge chunk of your order survived."

"Aside from stopping Sidious?" he said dryly.

She sighed and looked away. "You won't win Obi-Wan. The Sith have been playing this game for a thousand years, while the Jedi are only just now realizing it's been going on."

"Then help us fight him," he pleaded, "You have knowledge of..."

She wrinkled her nose and interrupted, "When you Jedi won't even give me a minute outside this room? Fat kriffing chance. I'm taking what I know to the grave out of pure _spite_. I ' _hope'_ you manage to survive, I truly do, but the rest of your Order I really don't give a damn about."

He pursed his lips. "What would you do with that minute, honestly?"

"Meditate as quickly and deeply as I could before you lot toss me back in here," she said flatly, "Either that, or rupture my brain with the Force. Might be more preferable to being in here."

He gave her a deeply unimpressed look. "So you'd touch the Dark Side, or commit suicide, that's not really pleading your case."

She put on a charming smile. "Isn't it?"

He sighed and waved a hand. "Just... what happened next? After, what did you call it? Your ' _field trip_ '?"

She can't help the snicker that escapes her at his tone. "But I was enjoying our conversation, and now you want to change the subject?"

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes. "He had me go practice not using my lightsaber or killing people with the Force to solve all my problems."

"I haven't really heard of you doing much else," said Obi-Wan.

"Because you know of everything I've done in the last eight years?" she said, eyebrow raised.

He didn't answer.

"The Sith are more than just martial power Obi-Wan," she murmured, "For all Sidious has in strength with the Force or his skills with a Lightsaber, they're not his primary focus. He is a manipulator, a schemer. What little he tells me of his actual doings or has me do for missions involves reaching out across the Galaxy and binding people to his will without them even realizing it. He has so much influence, in places you can't even fathom."

"Example being my time with the B... with a... he loaned me to a criminal organization for a year," she said, not desiring to put the Black Sun, put Alexi and Mighella, under Jedi spotlight, "Working my way into their ranks, gaining influence, becoming trusted, putting them in the pocket of the Sith."

Well, her pocket, not Sidious's.

"And what did you do in this...," he began.

_Beep beep beep._

Obi-Wan held up a finger. "Hold that thought."

He pulled a comlink off his belt. "Obi-Wan here... hello Grandmaster."

She rolled her eyes. "How nice for the old fart to call and check in."

Obi-Wan eyed her briefly before he paused. "The Senate did _what_?"

Siri watched with amusement the mass of emotions playing across his face. Without the Force to help him in his control, it was interesting to see that all so unguarded.

"Alright Grandmaster," murmured Obi-Wan, "I'll go get ready for a session with the Council."

He clicked off the comlink and stared down at it solemnly. "The Senate just petitioned the Jedi Council to put you on trial."

Her amusement was gone in an instant. "They did _what_ now?"

Obi-Wan frowned intently, rising to his feet. "They want to put you on trial."

A dark scowl played across her face. "The nerve, when many of them should be the ones on trial. Honestly, putting me on trial for what little involvement I had in the Blockade? What are they hoping to get out of..."

She trailed off, her breath hitching. " _Sidious_..."

Obi-Wan paused at the entrance, glancing back. "What?"

She swallowed. "Dealing with Force Sensitives is generally under the Order's prerogative. Pulling them out and putting them on trial isn't something done often, or lightly. This... this had Sidious written all over it."

"That's jumping to conclusions..."

"It's really not," she said, voice rising a bit in panic, "Getting me out of the Temple is the first step, killing or capturing me comes next."

Obi-Wan looked away for a moment. "Is that a real concern for you? Or are you just wanting to avoid facing judgement of some kind?"

Siri glared at him. "Obi-Wan, I'd _personally_ love to tear the Senate a new one. Put me on trial without the danger of Sidious, and I'd have the time of my life."

She glowered. "But this? This is a trap, the only question is the manner in which Sidious springs it."

He shook his head. "The Council will, for one, argue against this. And for two, even if you are taken to trial, you will be under heavy guard, you will be safe."

She pursed her lips, but didn't answer aloud. Nowhere was safe from Sidious. She watched him go, her mind whirling, fear, so much fear, tingling down her spine. They were going to cart her over to the Senate probably in Force Binders, so sure and arrogant of themselves, get her captured and sent to the most painful death imaginable. She slowly rose to her feet and held out her arms to her chest, tilting her wrists upright and staring at them silently, contemplating her only way out and away from Sidious.

Kriff it.

It would hurt Obi-Wan, but...

She brought a wrist up to her mouth, bared her teeth...

_Tick tick tick..._

Ah, actually, scratch that. That would just be messy and painful. Now, that clock on the other hand...

She grabbed it off the wall, lifted it, and smashed it into the ground, again and again, shutting up that infernal ticking. She smiled at it, picking apart the pieces for the sharpest thing she could find. She walked over to her bed and sat down, sighing.

"Now quite how I ever imagined my life to go," she murmured, "Or end."

She didn't hesitate. One sharp slice across one wrist, and then the other.

"Siri, I forgot to ask, is there anything you can offer about the Trade Federation occupation?" came Obi-Wans voice from the entry way as the shields cycled, "Being complaint with the Senate and helpful with the investigation will..."

Ah hells...

"Siri?" came Obi-Wan's questioning voice, first looking down at the shattered clock, and then her, and then her bleeding wrists in wide open panic, "SIRI! I need a medkit in here!"

She made to go for her neck, only to get full force tackled by Obi-Wan, pinning her down. She struggling to throw him off as he pinned her to the bed. She slammed her head back with an audible crack and a cry of pain from Obi-Wan. Then, there were four temple guards rushing into the room. The last thought she had before they pinned her down and jabbed something into her neck...

...was that she should have gone for her throat first instead, wrists took to long.

* * *

When Siri came to, she had the displeasure of finding herself strapped down to her bed, bandages visible around her writs under the restraints. She growled under her breath, yanking at them to test, but getting nothing. She closed her eyes for a long moment, breathing in, exhaling out, and trying to release the now useless rage. She paused when someone cleared their throat. She, on principle, didn't look over, wouldn't give them the pleasure of commanding her attention after denying her this. Kriffing Jedi and their stupid compassion.

"Are you that much of a coward that you cannot face your sins?" came a crisp voice.

Not Obi-Wan then.

Her lips peeled back as she sneered up at the ceiling. "I've been forced to face them every waking moment in this cell, Dooku."

The aged Jedi master walked over and peered down at her. "What was it then? To much to handle?"

She glowered up at him. "It had nothing to do with my so called _sins_ , and everything to do with Sidious. Allowing me to go to trial is giving him a sure fire way to either capture or kill me."

"Is that so?" mused Dooku, looking thoughtful, "Now there is an idea."

She had a brief moment of confusion before groaning. "Bait? _Really_? He wont be stupid enough to come himself, and if he cant find a way to capture me, a rocket into my transportation or a bomb planted somewhere works just as fine, or a good old fashion sniper rifle can do the trick."

Dooku made a non-committal hum. "You don't fear death, that much is obvious. So what is it, Sith, that you do fear about Sidious ' _capturing_ ' you?"

"Failure is intolerable to a Sith," she warned, "Especially the degree of failure I displayed at Naboo. He will _invent_ ways to make me suffer before he kills me. If you Jedi have any sort of real compassion, you'll put a lightsaber through me right now."

Dooku had the audacity to smile. "I thought the Sith didn't believe in compassion? It would be a shame to tread upon your beliefs."

"You're an asshole, has anyone ever told you that?" she asked bluntly.

"Generally not to my face, no," he answered.

"Well you are," she said flatly.

"Noted," he said, not phased in a slightest, before his eyes turned sharp, "I warned you not to harm Obi-Wan again. It would appear you didn't listen. As such, I will be throwing my support into encouraging the Council to have you face the Republic's justice."

She snorted. "If the Republic had any idea of what justice actually was, half the Senate would be in a cell a lot like this one."

"Hmm," murmured Dooku, "It would appear we agree on that. Pity you are a Sith, I may have enjoyed arguing the particulars with you otherwise."

"I doubt it, I hate politics," she answered, "My idea of politics would be to line the Senate up and shoot them."

He gave a dismissive snort and turned away. "A brutish way to deal with the issue."

"Not hearing you say no," she called after him.

He either didn't dignify that a response, or secretly agreed. She put credits on the latter, Sidious had him pegged for his views after all. She sighed after he had left. Now she couldn't even move anymore. She weighed her options, which were unsurprisingly little.

Option One: If the Jedi failed to dissuade the Senate, then she'd go to trial. In which she'd either be captured or killed by Sidious... or actually be put on trial, and wouldn't that be _fun_?

Option Two: Blank out and don't come back.

She hummed to herself. "Option two it is."

She tilted her head when she heard the shields cycle, watching Obi-Wan walk in, his face carefully blank, except for the bruising on his nose. "Did I break your nose this time? That'd make me two for two."

He gave her an unimpressed look and so rudely didn't answer her curiosity. "Since you can't be trusted with your own safety. I'm here to ask which you would prefer: Being fed by someone, or an IV and a feeding tube."

"Option two," she found herself echoing before going for a cutting remark, "The less I have to interact with _you_ the better."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to apologize for saving your life."

"The only thing you've done is doom me to a more agonizing death, so pat yourself on the back for that," she rebuked.

"You're so sure he'd kill you," said Obi-Wan mildly, "As much as I'd be horrified to have you end up back with him, why would he waste years of training and not simply take you back?"

She has the urge to outright dismiss what he said before she briefly considers it for a moment, and finds that prospect terrifies her even more than Sidious inventing ways to torture and kill her.

"Obi-Wan," she says quietly, and is rather surprised with herself to admit, "Ending up back with Sidious would be far worse than him killing me."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows lift. "Truly?"

She sneers at him. "Silly Jedi, you really don't get it, do you? You told me once that I'm not the kind of Sith you expected, there is a _reason_ for that."

She looks away, wishing her arms were unbound so she could wrap them around herself despite how _weak_ the action is. "It's because he never _broke_ me, never really tried."

Obi-Wan frowned. "What... exactly do you mean by ' _broke_ '?"

"To destroy your chosen apprentice, to reduce them to nothing, and rebuild them in your image," she whispered, watching the disgust on his face grow, "Sidious tortured me yes, manipulated me in that cell mentally and physically, but he never destroyed me. I may have fallen, but I still _chose_ the Dark Side in that cell, chose to welcome it rather than resist it, if only to grow strong enough to kill him. He may have forced my hand, threatened me in many ways, but he never broke me. Ultimately, I accepted my apprenticeship, that was my _choice_ , I could have chosen death after all."

She gave him a grim smile. "If Sidious did take me back, you'd never see me again as you knew me."

She looked away. "Anything left of Siri Tachi in the monstrous shell I am... would be gone, scoured away. You've heard of Revan's Cure, right?"

Obi-Wan tensed. "I have."

She studied his reaction, grinning. "Oh? That look... did the Council want to do that? Turn me into their next Revan?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "They implied no, but, Qui-Gon and I took the initiative on saying we'd leave the Order if they considered it."

Siri went silent for a moment, surprised, and secretly pleased to hear that. Despite how terrifying the prospect was, she almost wished the Jedi had done it, if only to free Obi-Wan from the chains of the Jedi. "Revan's Cure is only a nickname for it, for the far extreme the Council back then went to. The technical term is Memory Rub, it is generally a Dark Side technique, the fact that the Jedi went so far as to use it back then is... surprising, especially when crafting a fake persona to go with it. Its different than simple affecting the mind to forget a few key memories or plant ones. A Memory Rub is used to _wipe out_ large portions of a persons memory, or for a specific important event, when done in full it _destroys_ a person, Obi-Wan..."

She gave him a strained smile. "And the Sith have their own variations of Revan's Cure. They are truly, horrifying things, beyond anything you know and understand. There are ways to rip a person's mind apart and insert your will into the cracks, binding them to you. If... if he for some reason doesn't kill me and takes me back, it will be to fulfill a purpose, because he still sees a use in me before he throws me away. If he ever gets me Obi-Wan, and I some day return spouting nonsense about seeing the error of my ways and seeking redemption, put a lightsaber through me, don't even hesitate, because it'll be a trap, and he'd have me kill you whispering devotion to him and the Dark Side the moment your certain you've ' _redeemed me_ ', just to make you suffer all the worse."

The look of pure sickness on his face brings an odd sense of calm to her. That perhaps he's only now finally understand the true depths of what he's up against, the true power and dangers of the Dark Side when wielded by some _thing_ like Sidious. "And that's only one potential thing he could do. His mind is a dark, sick and twisted thing, Obi-Wan. He won't leave me unbroken a second time."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "That, or he'd leave me unbroken only so much as to kill you in front of me as a _lesson_."

"Have I ever told you I find his lessons in poor taste?"

She sighed and looked away. "How long is it going to take to go to trial?"

"The Order is going to fight it," said Obi-Wan, "Which, normally, could make things take months, but... the Senate is rather insistent, and has the backing of both the new Supreme Chancellor, and the courts in their demand. With that in mind... a few weeks to a month."

Siri blinked. "New Supreme Chancellor?"

"Chancellor Valorum was ousted in a vote of no confidence by Queen Amidala," answered Obi-Wan.

Siri laughed borderline hysterically. "Even when Sidious loses, he _still_ wins."

"How is that a win for Sidious?" asked Obi-Wan.

"Valorum was a Jedi sympathizer," she answered bluntly, "And he's now out of the picture."

Obi-Wan frowned. "I don't believe our current chancellor has any anti-jedi views to my knowledge."

She sighed. "Its about getting the chancellor out of the Jedi's pocket. If the current one is neutral, that works to, and who is the new chancellor?"

"Chancellor Palpatine of Naboo," answered Obi-Wan.

Siri frowned for a moment before scoffing, "Well, abusing your homeworld's suffering to get yourself elected takes a certain kind of scumbag."

"He wanted to become chancellor to help deal with the crisis," countered Obi-Wan disapprovingly, "Or so I heard."

"Yes, because as chancellor you can just snap your fingers and get it done in an instant," she said dryly, "It would have taken months of a continuous occupation before the senate could do anything."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a pessimist?" he asked.

"Why Obi-Wan, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she answered with mock sweetness.

He sighed. "I suppose I'll leave you to it. I have to give your answer to Master Che, and then meet with the Council, _apparently_ my involvement in Naboo makes me someone the Senate wants to hear from preliminarily."

She hesitated for a moment. "Mind yourself out there, Obi-Wan. You're a target to Sidious now for what happened on Naboo. Don't _ever_ leave the Temple alone."

He gave her a tight smile. "You're concern is appreciated. I'll be mindful."

She watched him go before sighing. "And of course, I smashed the clock. Great."

She didn't think she specifically needed it, but it would make fading away easier. Obi-Wan said she had a few weeks to a month, she had that long to effectively destroy herself. Best to start by bringing out her ' _inner Jedi_ ' and practice voiding herself of anything that made her sentient. Clear the mind. Clear her thoughts. Clear her emotions. Let herself go.

Because that was better than going back to _him_ , whether he tortured and killed her, or decided to reclaim her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guide section is done.


	33. False Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... as it was pointed out to me, Force Suppression Cells (FSC) aren't actually cannon that I can find. I could have sworn they were, but, I've read more fanfics than I have re-read/re-watched Star Wars/re-played games, so, I'm assuming reading it somewhere is where those come from, if I didn't just imagine them into existence back when I was planning out this portion of the story, can't really recall.
> 
> Anyway, so yeah, FSC are made up for this story, as are their related affects, though, I did try to put some thought into how it might actually work if they were *real* to Star Wars.

On occasion, being Palpatine was like wearing an uncomfortable, disgusting mask.

All the meek and self-depreciating comments, the grandfatherly smiles, the pleasant interactions; it would be insufferable if it weren't for the fact that it was for one, necessary, and two, amusing to deceive the incompetent senators, Jedi, and well, everyone. Not a single person in the entire galaxy had any clue who Sidious truly was. Even when in the same room as multiple Jedi council-members, there wasn't an ounce of suspicion. He stood in the chancellor's pod in the middle of the senate chamber, on galaxy wide holovision and holonet, with the entire Republic watching, and showed not even the slightest hint of anything more than a leader seeking justice.

Which he was doing now, and having a rather irritating session trying to corner the Jedi Order into allowing his apprentice to stand trial. "...and I do not understand the Jedi Order's reluctance to allow this particular Force Sensitive to be tried in the Senate. It is hardly the first time, even in recent years, that such a thing has occurred."

He glanced over the pod of Jedi; Yoda and Windu would normally be the center of Sidious's attention, but the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi was here again after the preliminary questioning session earlier this week drew his interest. As much as it benefited him for that particular Jedi to be there, why would they allow a padawan into such a gathering when not requested? It had to be something to do with his apprentice. The question was, what exactly? What role did Obi-Wan Kenobi play in regards to her beyond a counter-temptation back to the Jedi?

Something to be thought about later, for now, he was vulnerability in the Jedi's defense. "Why, was not young Kenobi here, while proven innocent, not put on trial for the death of one Bruck Chun some years ago?"

His predatory eyes noted a slight flinch from the young man. Still a sore spot? Or perhaps an allowance that Sidious had made a point they could not quite refute?

"Mmm, true it is, Chancellor," allowed Master Yoda, "But seduced to the Dark Side, young Kenobi was not. Dangerous, young Tachi is."

"To the Senate, and the court of law, one's religion is hardly a basis for danger, Force Binders can be used if she proves unreasonable," countered Sidious, before he made a deliberate pause.

He had been considering, whether or not to publicly reveal his apprentice. The Jedi had not taken the initiative to do so, and considering what Kenobi had tried to do on Naboo, Sidious had an idea as to why. One, to not cause a public panic at the discovery of a Sith, and two, to not publicly condemn Siri. Being publicly known as ' _fallen padawan_ ' was one thing, being publicly known as a Sith was something far different, far more ostracizing and damning to Galaxy at large, and especially to other Jedi. He knew the padawan wanted to turn her away from the Dark Side. Ludicrous, except for one _small_ problem.

She had almost been pulled away once already early on in her apprenticeship.

Allowing any advantage to the Jedi in stealing his apprentice away was _unacceptable._ "...or are you so concerned because she is a Sith?"

The Jedi all went silent and still. A murmur went up through the Senate, generally of confusion. Most would have no idea what a Sith was. "It is what Viceroy Gunray confessed to her being when asked of her involvement."

He leaned forward, staring down at them like the gnats they were. "Considering that Gunray only recently informed us within the last week, and you have held her for over a month, tell me, Master Jedi, were you planning on informing the Senate of this development?"

He could feel a collective rise in irritation against the Jedi, even if most of the Senate had yet to understand what a Sith was, and resisted the urge to smile. While he was still furious with his apprentice, there were many ways he could turn her capture to his advantage even before he reclaimed her. From start to finish, the Jedi's involvement in the Blockade of Naboo was a political nightmare, for them. They hadn't been supposed to be there to begin with. There was several ways he could turn this against them, but he had to tread carefully for his public image, lest he follow Valorum out of office. He should not seem angry that they intervened, no, he should appear grateful. But if it was ever pointed out that they shouldn't have been involved... well... he'd have to phrase his response carefully.

Yoda, to the little green troll's credit, did not appear cowed or phased by the accusation. "Her word alone, we had. Claimed to be Sith, others before her have. Cause unnecessary panic, want that we did not."

There wasn't a Force Sensitive alive who had felt his apprentice briefly ascending to Sithdom who would believe she wasn't a Sith. While the normal miscreants of the Galaxy may take the troll's word for granted, those with the power of the Force would not. Depending on how the Jedi as a whole react, lying to the Senate could cause potential internal conflict. Not to mention from other sects or factions of the Force scattered across the Galaxy. Of course, when it eventually came out that she was truly a Sith, the trolls statements would come back to bite him. He could, at any time, play footage of her battle against the Jedi, of her use of Force Lightning, and put a rather large dent in the troll's argument. No mere fallen padawan, after all, can defeat an accomplished Jedi Master and a padawan on the cusp of knighthood.

The problem with that laid in his apprentice's future use.

If he revealed her fully, it would risk turning the Galaxy against her, and make coming up with an explanation of her use for his future empire tricky. Though, when he had his empire, it might not matter. He knew he would have to confront the Jedi eventually, her coming in to ' _save the day_ ' from the usurping Jedi could be seen as a ' _redeeming action_ ' to the public, a slow lead in to when she became the enforcer of his empire. There were other potential ways it could be used, after all, to the public what was the difference between a Jedi and a Sith? Light and Dark? He could potentially use her to downplay the Sith's danger until the empire is made and control secured...

On the flipside, there was no guarantee he would retrieve his apprentice. Denying himself an advantage on the chance to reclaim her, as much as he desired to, was foolish. He was a Sith, he was in control of his desires, not the other way around. He would not go frothing at the mount to take back what belonged to him. Either retrieved her, or he didn't. If he could not have her, then no one would. He would make sure the Jedi could not properly use her. He could ruin her reputation and image easily, make any use future use of her by the Jedi controversial. Make anyone and everyone see and treat her with suspicion...

Which... now that he thought on it, could be a driving force for her to return to him ( _if she ever escaped_ ). After all, he would be the only one in the Galaxy who would not turn her away for being a Sith, far from it. Yes... he could further drive her from the Jedi, from the Republic, and back into his hands all the while calling the Jedi out for lying.

"Master Jedi," began Sidious, "Ever since learning of this ' _Sith's_ ' involvement, I have been researching their history in preparation for this request..."

He began typing into the holoscreen on his pod, sending a clip from the battle on Naboo to the Senate. He had secured every ounce of it that he could from every camera angle available in the generator complex. He chose her use of throwing Jinn down a walkway with lightning flowing from her fingertips, earning a startled gasp from many senators. "Is that not Force Lightning? Something not actively seen since the last Jedi and Sith war?"

Yoda placed both hands on his glimmer stick and stared up unblinking at the chancellor. "Limited to Sith, that ability is not."

Not untrue, the Nightsister Witches favored the ability after all, they however stuck to their little world save for a few odd cases. Rare was the darksider otherwise who could manage to properly harness Force Lightning without killing or damaging themselves with it. Still, he could only press a point for so long. "Regardless of that, Master Jedi, Sith or not, Siri Tachi was involved in the illegal occupation of Naboo. Gunray's confessions paint her and her hidden Master as the architects behind the event. This is not a matter that only involves the Jedi Order. We have a right to have her questioned first by the senate, and then to face justice in the courts."

"Unsafe it...," began Yoda yet again.

"Master Jedi, the Senate is not asking for her to stand before unbound our unaccompanied," he said, allowing an air of incredulous to creep into his voice, "Are you saying that in Force Binders, surrounded by Jedi Counselors, she would still pose a threat?"

The Jedi said nothing right away, briefly turning to converse with one another.

"Our petition is a request," said Sidious, "But if we must put it to vote and make it an order, we will."

"Seek the courts in such an event, we will," said Yoda firmly.

Unfortunately for Yoda, Sidious owned or had dirt on half the courts at the moment ( _eventually all of them with his future appointments_ ). He had encouraged them, and they had already made a few public remarks about supporting the motion. He gives the Jedi a look of disappointment, then takes his time looking around the senate as if judging and weighing his support. He has it even if he didn't own so many of these miserable leeches. "So be it, Master Jedi. A discussion, and then a vote will be held, and we will forward the results to you afterwards."

They could stall this out only for so long. He had the Senate. He had the Courts. He had public support according to the last polls. While he had intended for the occupation to become a minor footnote to be swept under the rug, he had changed course, having the media flout it as a grievous injustice to rile up as many people as possible. After all, if a trade conglomerate could invade one world, why not another? It stirred up fear, and that fear led to anger, anger that demanded a target. His apprentice would be that target for the time being.

It was only a matter of time...

* * *

Obi-Wan groaned. "You're joking. It's barely been a week since we appealed to the courts!"

"Mmm, wish I were, I do," murmured Yoda as the two of them walked together in the halls of the temple, "Agreed with the Senate, the courts have. Ask for a second appeal, the Jedi will, but doubtful it is, that the courts will bend."

Obi-Wan sighed softly. "I suppose it will go to trial then."

"To trial, it will," agreed Yoda quietly.

"Siri, last I talked to her, believes it's a ploy by Sidious to kill or capture her," said Obi-Wan.

"Possible, it is, but not certain," said Yoda, "Unclear the Force is on the matter."

"If he does, do you think he would go after her before the Senate questioning session? Or before the Court Trial?" asked Obi-Wan, "He couldn't possibly think to try something while they are proceeding, would he?"

Yoda shook his head. "Know that, I do not. Under watch at all times, she will be."

The Jedi Master frowned, his age skin wrinkling. "Hope I do, that lying she was to you. If great influence in the senate, Sidious has, more danger is there than forcing a trial."

"I hope so to," he said.

But he didn't believe she was lying, and there was no small amount of unease that filled him with the notion that the Sith might have some kind of control over the Senate. Because that in turn meant the Sith had a means of control over the Jedi. It was a dark thought that he knew weighed in the Council's mind. In Qui-Gon's mind. Hells, Grandmaster Dooku already thought the Senate corrupt, Sidious having influence there magnified every single one of the aged Jedi's arguments. Something had to be done, but no one had a clue what. They didn't know who Sidious was, and trying to go in and route him out was impossible. They didn't know if he was disguised as a member of the senate, an aid, a facility staff, a friend of a senator, all of that and more. Not to mention the Senate would not tolerate the Jedi just waltzing in and making accusations on anyone without proof.

"Inform Young Tachi, you should," said Yoda, poking Obi-Wan in the chest with his glimmer, "Avoiding seeing her, you have, weeks now it has been."

"I've been trying to help with the...," began Obi-Wan.

Yoda gave him a knowing look. "Fool me, you do not. Your responsibility she is, asked us of this, you did. For better, for worse."

Obi-Wan looked away for a long moment. "She tried to kill herself Master Yoda. I just..."

He trailed off unable to find the words briefly. "She has absolutely no faith in us, in _me_ , I shouldn't be surprised, shouldn't be hurt... but..."

"A Sith she is," said Yoda softly, "In no one, does she trust."

"I've talked with her for over a month, I still can't wrap my mind around living that kind of awful life," admitted Obi-Wan, "I just... I don't understand why she doesn't want to turn away from it. She's not misguided, she knows what she does is wrong, and even if she doesn't think she's redeemable, why continue to be a Sith? Why not something else, _anything else_?"

"Answer that, only Young Tachi can," said Yoda, waving his stick into the air, "Off with you Obi-Wan. Old I am, need rest for the sessions to come, I do."

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile before taking his leave. It was... long past due. A little over two weeks, Siri was probably peeved at him from staying away for so long, especially since she was forcibly bedridden for her own safety. He was expecting her to be particularly viscous, or give him a very long cold shoulder. He resigned and braced himself as he headed down to the cells. The Temple Guards on watch say nothing as he passes and waits for the energy fields in front of her cell to cycle, and walks in.

He hesitates in the entryway, eyes on Siri. She lays motionless on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, an IV into an arm, orogastric feeding tube in her mouth and down her throat. He imagined it had to be horribly uncomfortable, but then again, it would be nothing compared to her training or her punishments as a Sith. She didn't seem particularly uncomfortable at the moment...

Ah just get it over with.

"Good morning Siri," he said, slowly stepping into the room.

When she didn't respond, or give a tell she heard, he sighed. One of those days again then. He walked over, and sure enough, her eyes were glazed as she stared up at the ceiling. It never ceased to disturb him to walk in and find her like this, especially when he wasn't sure what exactly caused it. She had implied it had something to do with the Force Suppression. But there was a rather lacking amount of information on it, especially extended stays in the cells. Simply put, when was the last time Jedi actively used those cells? The last Jedi and Sith war against the Brotherhood of Darkness? Even then? The Jedi Order had been in disarray after Skere Kaan caused a schism and turned to the Dark Side. The Republic's Dark Age, he had read, had been brutal.

There was simply no information on extended Force Suppression. Only on short term effects, things that could be used to cause it, and in the most extreme, the ability to sever someone's connection to the Force. Holding a Darksider long term... well... from what he had read, just didn't happen. More often than not, Darksiders fought to the death, or took their own lives rather than be captured ( _case and point Xanatos_ ), they almost _never_ willingly surrendered, or if they did, it was part of some scheme. In the distant past, considering that Sith were generally only active in the galaxy during war times, trials were hurried through, and individuals in question did not spend a long time in a cell, let alone a Force Suppressant one. There weren't many of these after all, it was far more common to put a prisoner in Force Binders, in a secure prison, under the watch of a Jedi. Alternatively, they were kept unconscious or in stasis for the duration of their imprisonment. There were also notes to never carry a weapon anywhere near a Sith, as having a weapon was more of a danger to the warden than to the Sith who could take it. Considering that most Sith in the far past were unrepentant mass murderers who wouldn't even acknowledge what they did was wrong, their sentence in trial was generally death if they didn't get themselves killed trying to escape or fighting their captors.

Jedi rarely held any prisoner in the temple for an extended period of time. They had their own detention center, yes, higher in the temple, but it was a _detention center_ , not a prison. The Jedi were not wardens. They sometimes held dangerous Force Sensitives or criminals until something was decided in what to do with them. There was also, as much as Obi-Wan did not like to note, a rather large difference between Jedi attitude to darksiders depending on what Era one was speaking of. Jedi opinion on them varied from redeemable to lost causes to be put down. That it had not always been ' _Once you turn to the Dark Side forever will it dominate your destiny_ ', had always been shocking for him, from when Dooku first spoke of Master Ur Manka trying to help ' _Iris_ ' years ago, and even now, the possibility was still jarring to him.

Now, Sith on the other hand, from what he was allowed to read, delighted in taking and torturing prisoners. So perhaps it stands to reason Siri might have more understanding on the subject. If there was some kind of issue, why keep quiet on it though? Why endure an unnecessary hardship... oh, right, _Sith_ , that's apparently what she did her _entire_ apprenticeship. Even if this was an extreme side effect of being in the cell, what was he to do? Argue with the council for an hour outside the cell for her where she'd just bathe in the Dark Side and undo every ounce of progress they made? He sighed, looking down at Siri in silence for a few moments before walking over to his usual spot and sliding down, taking a datapad out of his pocket to start another binge on reading Republic Law. It was one of the driest reads he had ever had, and gave him constant headaches trying to understand the legal jargon.

He spent a few hours numbing his brain to the madness of the legal system before he stopped and stood, stretching. He glanced over at Siri, a slight frown crossing his face to see that she was still out of it. How long had she been like that this time? He walked out of the cell and paused to look at the guards, considering what to ask.

"Has she been _compliant_ the last few weeks?" he asked.

One of the Temple Guards shifted to address him. "The Prisoner has no spoken once. It prefers to ignore us when we come into change the equipment and simply stare at the ceiling."

A sinking feeling hit Obi-Wan all the sudden. "I see."

Perhaps he should ask Master Che to come down again...

* * *

"Sure of this, you are?" posed Master Yoda.

Obi-Wan stood next to Master Che, his entire body tensed with worry and deep concern as Master Che reported her findings to the Jedi Council. "If we stim her anymore than what we have, it risks serious damage to her nervous system. She is not reacting whatsoever to them."

"She could be faking it to give herself a chance to escape if she were taken out of her cell," posed Master Windu.

"Without the Force, I don't believe she could fake keep still without reacting at all," countered Master Che, "She visibly reacted the last time we tried this."

"It could be a long term plot...," began Master Windu again.

"I think," rumbled Plo Koon, "That it would be relatively simple to test this. Bring what equipment you need to the cell, and monitor her readings. I hope that it is a ploy of some kind, if not, we will react accordingly to see what can be done."

Master Che huffed. "Perhaps had anyone kept a proper eye on my patient, then it wouldn't have gotten this far. But so long as she is a docile compliant prisoner, what would most care?"

There was an air of disapproval through the chamber, but the healer didn't even flinch at the collective stare-down of the council, she merely continued, "Dangerous or not, the first time this 'blanking out' as Padawan Kenobi calls it happened, I should have been informed. The fact that its occurred far more often that I was led to believe is far more alarming..."

She gave Obi-Wan a withering look, and he winced.

"...and especially since we do not know the duration of this episode, which ranges in possibility to two-weeks to a few hours. The fact that I have no concrete idea why this in particular is happening is also concerning, I will need time to figure out what is wrong, and to determine treatment if there is something to do for her. Time that we do not have."

"I beg your pardon?" inquired Ki-Adi-Mundi.

"I may spend my days mostly in the Halls of Healing," said Master Che, "But that does not mean I am unaware of what goes on outside the temple. Is she not requested for court? Last I heard, the Order's appeal was going to be shot down. Tell me Masters, what exactly happens if she is say, requested tomorrow? And all we can offer is a comatose prisoner who was not before? I am not a politician, but even I understand how bad that will reflect on the Order."

That sinking feeling from earlier hits higher now, with a low key of warning from the Force that Master Che is not wrong in the slightest.

"The Jedi did not harm her in any way during her imprisonment," rebutted Master Windu pointedly, "If anything, she has been treated with more leniency than any Sith deserves."

"I do not particularly care that she is a Sith," said Master Che, "Negligence can be just as dangerous as intentional harm, and expecting Padawan Kenobi to be her sole supervisor was foolish considering the pressure and stress of dealing with a difficult patient. This is hardly the Council's first dangerous prisoner, there are proper procedures in dealing with them, dropping these measures and losing your minds over her being a Sith is inexcusable."

"Asked for this, Padawan Kenobi did," pointed out Yoda.

"And does he have any knowledge of procedure?" inquired Master Che, "Where was his hand off? Who watched her when he wasn't?"

"She was supervised through camera the entire duration of her imprisonment," answered Master Windu.

Master Che opened her mouth to retort, but Master Piell cut in. "Rather than continue to argue and point fingers, perhaps we can focus on resolving the matter at hand? As you said Master Che, time is of the essence."

Master Che gave one last disapproving look across the council room before nodding. "If you are dead set on not transferring to the Halls of Healing, I'll need a few hours to get my equipment mobile and down there."

"Then may the Force be with you," said Master Windu, a clear dismissal, "Padawan Kenobi, stay."

Obi-Wan folded his arms into his robes as Master Che left, waiting.

Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke first, "You had no prior warning this time?"

It only took a moment for Obi-Wan to understand. "I felt no warning from the Force, unlike with the suicide attempt and her first overwhelming brush with guilt. She was in no danger of dying. I'm assuming no one else felt anything."

Yoda hummed. "Meditate often, have I. Felt little in the Force, about Tachi. Potential for good, for evil, vague unease, concrete these are not. No warnings, for, against."

"I imagine we all have meditated on the topic of the Sith," mused Master Piell, "With similar, frustrating results."

"And you Obi-Wan?" asked Master Windu, looking like he had swallowed something foul, "Has your... _closeness_ with the Sith in question allowed you anything but warnings from the Force?"

Obi-Wan hesitates for a moment, probing the Force, and only getting a mucky swirl, like a dark cloud, blocking anything and everything about Siri. "Normally, I would say no, I haven't gotten anything and been done with it. But that's the thing, Masters, ever since I heard about the trial, the Force has been _especially_ clouded about Siri. Before, while it wasn't monumental, I could get vague hints about when I should show up, twinges on important things she talked about after I left the cell when thinking back on it, but its all gone now. It's... well... it as if anything about Siri is being..."

"Clouded," offered Yoda thoughtfully.

It hangs, unsaid in the air, about the question of the Sith having anything to do with the Force being clouded as a whole. That Sidious may be cloaking any perception the Jedi could get on him or his apprentice through the Force.

"Yes," agrees Obi-Wan, "I feel little but general unease, the same as you Master Yoda, when I try to probe the Force about Siri, nothing more, nothing less. No warnings, no advice, nothing. Whether it is the intrusion of the Sith, or the will of the Force itself that we make the decision ourselves, we are on our own with how to tread with Siri."

"Assuming the Courts doesn't try to have her executed," mused Master Piell, "While there we no confirmed murders from her during the occupation, she was involved with the incident that left many dead on Naboo, and the attempted murder of two Jedi. Not to mention her incursions as 'Iris' against Master Dooku, there were several innocent casualties, and many other crimes and murders she is suspected of."

Obi-Wan hesitated.

"You do understand, Padawan Kenobi," said Master Windu, adopting a... not cruel tone, but a firm one, "That it is most likely well within their rights to. You have admitted to being attached, but are you prepared to let her go if she is made subject to the death penalty?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, a pained look crossing his face. "I am a Jedi, Master Windu. I want to help her, but I do understand that no matter how much she was or was not forced into this life, she has made her bed, and will have to face the consequences of her actions. If... if the best I can do is help her let go of her hate and the Dark Side to find peace before she passes on, then so be it. "

The Korun Jedi Master looked over Obi-Wan for a moment, eyes searching, before nodding with approval and sitting back in his chair. "Very well."

"Though," Obi-Wan added, making the approval fade into resignation, "I will state that without Siri, we have no leads on Darth Sidious."

There was no question of Siri not being found guilty of _something_. But a plea-deal of some-kind could be made, for information, for the chance for her to redeem herself... that was honestly the best he could hope for...

* * *

Siri was not requested the next day.

But she was requested the day after.

"The session is in two hours, Master Che, surely you have something?" asked Master Windu.

Obi-Wan stood across the room from Siri's bed in her cell, watching her chest rise and fall with quiet breaths. Little wires attached to sensors on her head and over her heart as Master Che looked her over. "I've had less than twenty four hours to begin studying her condition and preform additional research and tests. Her brains waves are... not quite comparable to a comatose patient, but more similar to those who fall to deeply into the Force and can't find their way out. Which, of course, does not quite fit the situation. I have been talking with Obi-Wan, about some of the comments Siri made during her imprisonment, and there is a possibility it has something to do with long-term exposure to the cell itself."

Master Windu frowned. "Explain."

"That's just it, I don't know," admitted Master Che, "It was a conjuncture with little to no proof aside from her allusions. I would like to take her out of the cell..."

"It has been argued against...," began Master Windu.

"Under watchful eyes, and in Force Binders if it will placate you," interrupted Master Che, "And see what I can sense with the Force."

Master Windu grumbled a bit, but agreed, leaving briefly to request Yoda and Ki-Adi-Mundi's presence before returning, with a pair of binders. Force Binders were not as... restrictive as the suppressant cell, worked more like a disruption than actually blocking it. Siri was promptly cuffed, de-wired, and placed on a gurney before being carted out of the room. Obi-Wan was hoping, as much as he didn't want her to touch the Dark Side, that merely bringing her out would do something, but nothing happened. Master Che had her set down and knelt next to her, placing a hand on her forehead and closing her eyes.

Obi-Wan tentatively reached out with the Force, not to interrupt, but to feel Siri's presence for the first time in over a month. She felt oddly distant, not elusive, but detached from herself, like her Force presence hovered around her but not in her. It was one of the strangest things he had ever felt through the Force. It didn't feel quite right, she felt muggy in the Force itself, though that might have something to do with the binders as well. At the moment, she didn't particularly feel like anything in the Force, dark, light, somewhere in between, she was just there but not there.

He watched patiently as Master Che felt around with the Force, before pulling back. "Definitely not faking it. Her state is a lot like being lost in the Force, just not in the Force itself, most curious. I'll need to look into the medical area of the Archives..."

"Master Che, we do not have time for more research," said Master Windu, "Is there anything that you can do at this moment?"

Master Che gave him a disproving frown. "You want me to experiment? Mess around? Before I have all the details and a chance to think the issue through? What if I make her condition worse?"

At that, Yoda grunted. "No, careless we must not be."

"I suggest, you inform the senate that she is not medically fit to be questioned at the moment," suggested Master Che.

"Like that, they will not," muttered Yoda, leaning on his stick to peer at Siri in thought, "Believe us, they may not. If still they demand, and we deny, penalized the Order will be."

"Well, then I suggest someone dress her in actual clothes rather than the medical gown," said Master Che, "I'm surprised she didn't throw a fit over being stuck in that for so long."

"I doubt what she wears is a concern to a Sith of all things they could be worried about," said Master Windu, "But..."

He paused for a moment, frowning. "We will give her back her robes, she has not earned the right not agreed to return to the light to be given the robes of a Jedi."

Obi-Wan said nothing, resisting the urge to make a face. He really didn't want to see her in that dark clothing again. It wouldn't be that difficult to request a set of clothing from one of Coruscant's prisons. Better a bright orange of a prisoner than clothes of a Sith if he was asked. But he wasn't, he was mostly along for the ride at this point. He had faith that she would pull out of this. Regardless, Siri's fate was in the hands of Master Che, and then whether she succeeded in finding a solution or not, in the Senate...

* * *

Sidious felt the parasite bond snap back into place the moment the Jedi took his apprentice out of the confines of wherever they were holding her. He figured she had been in the depths of their temple, in their cells. He did not, like some overeager youngling, immediately react. He took his time carefully testing it out, feeling for her, around her. She was still suppressed in some way, either with cuffs, a serum, or through the efforts of the Jedi themselves. That was the first thing he noted.

The second, which made him more cautious in his probing, was that someone was poking around his Apprentice's force signature, and cautiously around her mind but not in it. He kept his presence hidden and carefully masked any of his own prodding. Especially when he detected the presences of several council members present around her. He would not give the council even a shred of a hint of what his Force Signature felt like until the time came to end them.

The third thing he noted was the state of his apprentice, and his eyes narrowed as he prepared himself for the senate session. She was detached from herself. There were several ways this could happen, especially if the Jedi were careless in probing her mind and trying to break her mental defenses. But no, he hadn't felt the bond awaken once after it had gone silent until now. Which meant she had been in their cells for the entire time. That, in turn left only one conclusion. A term his former master called Suppression Detachment.

The Sith had long delighted in the capture and torment of Jedi. There were many ways to deprive them off the Force, whether directly, or indirectly. Suppressant Cells, Sith Torture Masks, poisons, sorcery, all of that and more. The Sith weren't shy in how the preyed upon the weak and unworthy. Plaguies especially had been methodical and experimental with his Jedi captives. Toying with them, torturing this way and that to see what could garner which result. Force deprivation could lead to a great many different end results. Madness the most common in varying degrees.

But not the only one.

To be deprived of the Force was worse than simply losing a sense, or a limb, or anything the common rabble of the galaxy would try to parallel it with. It was losing access to part of one's life, their very essence and soul. To permanently lose the Force was something one could adjust to, but would never truly recover from. Losing access to it however was a far worse thing. For it is still there, just maddeningly out of reach. One could still reach for it, but never touch; even worse was the backlash of it. Trying to desperately enough to call to the Force that it hurt. That, coupled with isolation, torture, stress, loss of the concept of time, and the like, could degrade the mind.

However, there was another danger in the Force being out of reach for so long. One is always a part of the Force, as it is part of them. It is an anchor as much as it is a pull. There is such a thing as delving to deep into the Force that one mentally lose one's sense of self, becoming technically one with the Force without being dead, though one might as well be. So long is one has the Force, one will always be reaching, feeling for it. However, if they couldn't access it... they would be reaching into nothing, for nothing. Putting their consciousness and focus into nothing, and can lose themselves that way as well. It can happen passively, as one either loses their sense of time, or loses their sense of focus in the here and now, de-anchoring themselves. It will slowly grow worse over time naturally. Stress of course makes it worse, Plagueis had once make a Jedi go dead to the world in a week under his _tender mercy_ , the Jedi accepting oblivion as an escape.

The permanency of that depends on how long they were gone before treated; whether they had lost their higher brain functions from extreme disuse, or their sense of self had fully faded away.

Take them out of their deprivation, and tug their detached sense of self back... and the poor Jedi would be back in their cell of horrors on demand. Or his apprentice in this case. He was not truly concerned that the Jedi had permanently damaged her, not nearly enough time had passed. Her control of the Force would be weakened for the near future without the chance to meditate and firmly re-anchor herself to her body, and may need a few weeks to shake it off, but she would be back to functional form quickly enough. Assuming of course he did not render her disabled in his punishment of her failure on Naboo for an extended period of time.

It was still curious, that she had lost herself to oblivion so quickly... only a bit more than a month?

He hummed quietly to himself; he supposed he would find out what happened in that cell once he had her back in his hands. For now, he pocketed a datapad, adjusted his robes, and strode out of his office, his senatorial guard falling in behind him as he made his way through the building and into the senate chamber. It was in the process of slowly filling as senators and their aids arrived one by one. Several different camera-droids were already flying around the senate from various galactic new-stations, no doubt with some pre-session discussion going on in various newsrooms by spokesmen.

Mas Amedda was there waiting for him. "Chancellor, we have received a message from the Jedi Council. They say that the Sith is medically unfit for questioning."

Sidious paused briefly in his calculations, feeling down the bond again. The fact that the Jedi still hadn't brought his apprentice out of her state was curious... did they not realize _how_? It wasn't complex, let her out, give her unhindered access to the Force and tug her back...

A soft smile spread across his lips.

Unhindered access.

Oh yes, he understood.

They didn't want to let her access the Force, let her touch the Dark Side, did they? If it wasn't a lack of understanding, then it would be that. This brought so many possibilities... he wondered, if he demanded it, would they really take her to the session in that condition? Without drawing her back? Either they denied it and were penalized by the Senate, and drew both condemnation and public scorn...

Or they brought her out like that, for all to see...

He wanted to cackle; sometimes the Jedi made things all to easy. They were handing him ways to slowly turn the public against them all to easily.

"Tell them we will tolerate no further excuses," said Sidious, feigning disbelieving indignation, "They have stalled and delayed beyond necessary as it is."

Mas Amedda bowed and briefly left the pod to return the answer.

Sidious comfortably sat down in his chair and waited patiently, mind turning over how many different ways he could turn what was coming to his advantage. The opportunity had shifted from painting his apprentice the villain and stealing her away. Now the Jedi were handing him a way to damage their public image on a platter. The question was... how to use this. Did he now paint his apprentice the victim and condemn the Jedi? That could be useful in a way to strike against the hated enemy, but it may also generate sympathy for his apprentice, which could make attaining the ' _death penalty_ ' and secreting her away in a fake near-death state difficult.

Alternatively, he still had an extraction team of bounty hunters on standby. His apprentice was relatively comatose at the moment however. She was not capable of taking advantage of a distraction to escape, or fleeing with the bounty hunters. On the flip side, she also couldn't fight against them if she misunderstood their purpose in targeting her, darksiders did not often react well to another of their kind coming out of nowhere, and he had one Aurra Sing at the ready to lead that team. Still, there was no guarantee that the mercenaries could even get the job done and escape with Tachi. The Jedi would have her heavily guarded, and if an attempt was made, that guard would easily double. That method would have only one chance to work, if he decided to use it. If they failed, he would also lose out on potential future resources from the money sucking scum in question. Sing loved to kill Jedi, and he would rather that continue for the time being.

So many possibilities on what to try and what to do...

He supposed he was also being a bit hasty. There was, after all, one uncertain element in all of this.

His apprentice herself.

Was she still loyal to the Sith?

Had Kenobi pulled her away to the Jedi?

No, that couldn't have happened yet. If she was still in a cell, then she hadn't agreed to turn from the Dark Side. There was a chance however they had filled her with doubt, that Kenobi had made her conflicted. Under normal circumstances, if she had never been tempted back by Ur Manka, he wouldn't have entertained the possibility at all. But it had, and he would not allow arrogance to blind him. It made him reconsider how he would deal with her when he retrieved her. He had pressed her into the Sith initially after she had fallen, slowly seduced her more and more into the Dark Side. He supposed that old relic of a holocron had aided in this. Drastic punishment may drive her away if her dedication to the dark had been shaken. He may have to re-seduce her to the Dark Side, remind her of its power and possibilities...

 _Then_ punish her when she was firmly back in her proper place.

He nodded to himself and turned his attention to the Senate, stretching out to gauge the mood of those gathered. Some eager anticipation, some irritation at having this delayed so long, a hint of fear and unease about the prospect of a Sith, most indifferent. Most honestly didn't give a damn about Naboo's occupation, or the upcoming questioning. It was just another day in the life of a senator. He considered what mood he should cultivate before the Jedi arrive. He would have initially encouraged fear and anger of his apprentice, but now...

Perhaps impatience? Irritation at the Jedi?

Yes... that would work.

He spent the time waiting for the session begin to subtly manipulate the atmosphere with the Force. When he finally detected his apprentice's presence leaving the Jedi Temple he pulled back his influence and started masking his efforts so the scorn directed the Jedi's way would seem natural. He waited in anticipation to lay eyes on his apprentice again, and when he finally did... he may have miscalculated in allowing her to be brought here. A Sith should never been see as _weak_ , and as she sat drooped in a hover chair, her eyes vacant, mouth slightly open, a bit more thin than he remembered; she looked anything but strong, surrounded by several high ranking council members, and that ever present annoyance that was Kenobi.

It gave for a powerful, sympathetic image, yes, but it would be a damage to her stature when she eventually retook her place as his apprentice and became his empire's enforcer down the road. She was going to be livid when this sight came back to haunt her. He supposed she could only blame herself for bungling Naboo so badly. In fact, he could lord this over her, force her weakness down her throat over and over again. Give her a new source of hatred, of herself, of the Jedi, allow and encourage it to fester and grow. A new anchor to aid in tying her down into the Dark Side.

Finally, it begins, Mas Amedda motions there pod forward to the center of the chamber and stands, but when the Senate doesn't immediately quiet from their own conversations his voice booms out, "Order, we will have order!"

Amedda waits a moment for the chamber to quiet down before booming out, "We begin the senatorial questioning session of one accused Siri Tachi for the involvement in the Trade Federation Occupation of Naboo. The chair recognizes the Supreme Chancellor to begin these proceedings."

While nothing aside from a stab at the Jedi would happen this session, Sidious still stood, a role to play, clearing his throat before clearing his throat to address the senate, beginning as he always did when he had been a senator. "Delegates of the Senates, we are gathered here in the aftermath of a tragedy, seeking answers. There is no longer any doubt of the validity of the accusations of occupation. The battles have been fought, the damage done, the losses counted. The senatorial rights of the Trade Federation are, even now, in question."

He lets his eyes wash over Senator Lot Dodd, watching the Neimoidian squirm a little under the collective look many senators gave him. "However, it has come to light that a conspiracy of sorts may be at play. That these events were manipulated and catapulted to the galactic stage by a third party. When questioned, Viceroy Nute Gunray gave a confession."

He tapped his interface, sending a carefully scripted clip to every pod, and every newscaster...

* * *

_"What was the reason behind the occupation of Naboo?"_

_Gunray's voice answered. "Publicly, it was because of the recent taxation changes, but that's rubbish. Laws and prices change day to day. What is against us one day is in our favor the next. The Trade Federation has suffered worse changes in the past."_

_"Then why did you invade the Naboo?"_

_"I was pressured into it, threatened into it."_

_"By whom?"_

_"I... you promised protection?"_

_"If your testimony is given in honesty and proven truthful, yes."_

_"His name is Sidious, says he's a Sith. Him and his apprentice."_

_"His apprentice?"_

_"The blonde haired devil! If I ever failed to meet his expectations, he'd send her out to 'remind me of the price of failure'. She'd shock me with lightning or choke me with her powers. I was trapped! Damned if I do damned if I don't since the beginning!"_

_"The beginning?"_

_"I didn't know at first, I swear! Sidious was influencing my ascent to becoming the Viceroy of the Federation, wanted to use me for some reason. So he blackmailed me, either I did what he wanted, or he either killed me or revealed what he had done to get me elected and had me lose everything. No matter what I did, I lost."_

_"Why did this 'Sidious' and his apprentice want you to invade Naboo?"_

_"I don't know, he never told me. He wanted me to make the Queen sign a treaty to make the occupation legal, but he never told me why. When she escaped, he sent the apprentice out to retrieve her."_

_"You call her 'the apprentice', did you not know her identity?"_

_"It's all Sidious ever called her, and she never offered her name. I knew better than to ask."_

_"Is there anything you can tell us about this 'Sidious'? Age? Race?"_

_"He was always cloaked, and image transmissions can be falsified, so I don't know if what I saw was true or not. I could only tell he was an older humanoid..."_

* * *

Sidious clicked off the recording. "Copies of the full questioning are available on request. The point has, however, been made. A third party, Sith as they claim, appears responsible for the tragedy that befell my homeworld. One of which, we has been brought before us here today."

He leveled his gaze down at his apprentice. "Captured during the conflict was the Apprentice as Viceroy Gunray would call her, a former Jedi Padawan known as Siri Tachi, who..."

He let himself trail off, his eyebrows furrowing as he leaned forward as if to peer at her. He could detect the perceptions of many turn to her, including the cameras, wondering what had cause his pause. Now was to close the noose the Jedi had so graciously put around their necks, out of the corner of his eye, in one of the news feeds her had up on his interface, it zoomed in on her vacant face. "Master Jedi, _what_ is the meaning of this?"

Master Windu stepped forward to speak, "With due respect Chancellor, we sent word that the prisoner was not medically fit for questioning."

Sidious pulled himself back to stand up straight, eyes narrowed. "Forgive me, if with all the _unusual_ delays the Jedi Order has given in defiance of their mandate to serve the Senate, I made the incorrect assumption that was another stalling tactic. You could have sent a request for the senate to send an official to confirm the status of the accused. But that, in itself, is besides the point."

He gives them a fake-honestly baffled look. "Master Jedi, how is it that while under the Jedi's care, the accused now appears as addled as a mentally infirm patient?"

He had shaped it as an honest question, pointing the finger without sounding condemning, making it seem like he was trying to be understanding.

Master Windu kept his stony emotionless face. "We are not fully sure, Chancellor."

Sidious allowed a bit of his puzzlement to fade away from his face, replacing it with a hint of suspicion. "Perhaps, Master Jedi, you could detail your detainment of the accused?"

"She was kept in a Force Suppressant Cell under twenty-four hour surveillance, fed regularly, while one of our own questioned her about what had transpired since her assumed death on a mission eight years ago," explained Master Windu.

Sidious rubbed his chin in fake thought for a moment...

Before a chime sounded from one of the senatorial pods, Sidious turned his head to see Bail Antilles of Alderaan signal his desire to speak. He was, to be frank, still surprised the senator hadn't bowed out of the chamber and retired after his defeat for chancellorship, its what he had felt the man's intentions were. Perhaps he was merely choosing to stay for this last incident with Tachi.

Mas Amedda boomed out. "The chair recognizes the Senator of Alderaan."

Antillies stood and directed his attention to the Jedi. "Have records of her history within the Order, and this last mission she was assumed dead on, been made available to the Senate?"

"They have not," answered Master Windu.

"Allow me to rephrase then, will they be released to the Senate?" inquired Antillies firmly.

Sidious was curious if the Jedi would bend on this. It honestly didn't matter to him. Her initial history and the death of her former Jedi Master might garner a hint of sympathy, but not much considering how deeply she'd delved into the Dark and devoted herself to the Sith...

Then he paused.

There was a slight danger, not in regards to Tachi, but to Talesan Fry. If an inquiry went into what happened to him led to the few he did not own that knew his chief engineer questioning him...

Sidious made a mental note to make sure to sabotage _anything_ that could lead to his chief engineer, and by extension, the planned superweapon. It was far to early for any hint of that to break into galactic stage. It could cause problems down the road if it was linked to the Sith and revealed much later on when he had his empire. Hmm... ah yes, the boy had been a minor at the time, perhaps that could be used to expunge his name from the details of that mission? He'd have to look into it, and if not that method, then find another way.

Master Windu's eyes flickered to Yoda, who with a weary sigh, nodded. "Made available, her records will be."

Antillies nodded and sat back down, satisfied.

Sidious gave a moment, to allow any other senators to come forward to speak, but none did, so he recaptured attention, pretending to unknowingly lead into the heart of the matter at hand, "How often was she taken out of the cell to be questioned? Perhaps someone... overzealous, harmed her in transit? "

"She was never taken out of the cell until today," answered Master Windu.

Sidious blinked at him, make himself appear taken aback. "Not once?"

"No, the cells have freshers, and she was brought food daily," answered the Jedi, "She was questioned within it."

Sidious's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Master Jedi, I have often heard it said that the Force is considered to be a part of a Force Sensitive much akin to a sixth sense. Would you consider this to be true?"

"Somewhat," said Master Windu slowly, not quite seeing where ' _Palpatine_ ' was going with this, "It is a part of who we are, it flows through us all. Our bodies, our minds, our soul.

Sidious did not hide his frown. "I cannot pretend to know or understand the Force and what it feels like to have it, but, are you saying it is more important to a Force Sensitive than one of a sentient's normal senses?"

There was the slightest hint of hesitancy from the Jedi, he must have an inkling of where this was going now. "Yes, Chancellor."

Sidious's face darkened with disapproval. "Then it would be accurate to say that depriving a Force Sensitive of the Force would be considered a form of Sensory Deprivation. You are aware, Master Jedi, that Sensory Deprivation is considered by this Republic, when exposed to it for extended periods of time, to be a form of torture, are you not? That it can have sever psychological consequences for individuals depending on the duration and extremeness of the deprivation? That perhaps this deprivation may be the cause of her condition?"

The hush that fell over the senate is so profound and so deep it was deafening.

Sidious was not unaware of the risk of making so bold a claim, an allegation, against the Jedi Order so soon in his Chancellorship. He had intended initially that he would appear indifferent, neutral, perhaps slightly friendly to the Order early on in his rule. It was a shift in outlook, but one that he could explain, one that could be seen as warranted; especially if the public reacted the way he thought they would. It risked the Jedi and their allies cooling towards him earlier than intended, but it could be seen as a logical jump in thought. It could also paint him in a strong light, that he was not weak, not easily cowed. Though it would be a deviation from his soft-spoken grandfatherly visage he had maintained. Perhaps it could be seen as stepping up to the task at hand?

Master Windu took the time to school his face and think out his answer. "There is little study on the effects of Force Suppression. Very rarely have their been occupants dangerous enough to warrant being confined in these specialized cells within the last thousand years, and never for an extended period of time. I cannot speak for others, but the comparison had not occurred to me. Tachi is an incredibly dangerous prisoner who warranted special methods of containment. There was little else that could be done to properly contain her."

"As I understand it, Force Binders do not completely cut off the Force, but... muddle it I think is how it was once described to me?" inquired Sidious, "Could those not have been used?"

"Binders can be overcome by Force Sensitives powerful enough," explained Master Windu patiently.

"While under the watch of the Jedi? In the heart of your very temple?" he asked, allowing skepticism to coat his voice.

"Our temple not only contains our knights and masters, but our younglings, our padawans," said Master Windu firmly, "We take their safety seriously. Darksiders are known to be corruptive and tempting to the young, giving Tachi any leeway to escape and lure the defenseless to the Dark Side was unacceptable."

Tachi was far from being close to ready to even think of taking an apprentice. Potentially decades away. That fear was laughable to Sidious.

"With due respect Master Jedi, arguments of religion based on the Force have little grounds in court nor the Senate," said Sidious patiently before shaking his head, "But I do not wish to linger, whats done is done. At this point, Master Jedi, I believe the Senate would prefer to see if this situation can be salvaged. Remove her from her binders and allow her access to the Force."

That got a start out of the Jedi, Master Windu spoke up, "Chancellor, with due respect, that is unwise. She is dangerous..."

"And surrounded by some of the most renown Masters of your order, your Grandmaster included," said Sidious, tilting his head at Yoda.

"Perhaps in a more controlled environment...," began Master Windu.

Sidious gauges the state of the room before giving his answer. There is a growing amount of disapproval, most at the Jedi, though some at him. He catches the thought that he is ' _lingering_ ' or ' _pressing the same point to much_ ' from a few, some believe he is being heavy-handed, or are blowing it out of proportion. That number does not outweigh those who don't or are neutral however. There are hints of sympathy here and there for his apprentice, and more than a few who were fine with her potentially being permanently addled as a form of punishment. Though they would never say it aloud. Sidious weighed the risks of demanding they do this here, it was a bit against procedure, but there was a reason he wanted it done now.

Simply removing the binders and giving her uninterrupted access to the Force wouldn't be enough, at least not immediately, she might eventually come back on her own. But for a quick result, she'd need a ' _tug_ ' back, and while the Jedi would most likely figure that out, he wanted that moment shown here with _him_ as the reason and not them ( _not to mention there was a slight chance they might end up screwing the process up and ruining his apprentice, and that was intolerable_ ). "If we must put this to a vote, then I will call for one, Master Jedi. I have great respect for the Order, especially with what was recently done for Naboo, but as of the moment I am largely unimpressed with how the treatment of this prisoner has been handled."

He can feel a rising tide slowly questioning his decision, and at this point, he knows he needs the Jedi to bend to not have this come back looking bad on him. He is unbudging, despite the growing murmurs in the Senate, eyes locked on the Jedi. Master Windu and Yoda exchange glances for a long moment, before briefly addressing the other Jedi present. The Council Members move to stand in a square formation around his apprentice while Kenobi kneels down in front of her to take off the binders.

Sidious waits for just the right moment, not as soon as the binders come off. That's unrealistic, one would naturally need a moment for the change to impact. But that moment later, he reaches so very carefully down the bond, keeping his presence masked, and tugs at her Force Presence...

Siri jolts, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as her eyes come back into focus. A glimmer of pain rockets down her face at the sudden and overwhelming sensation of not only regaining herself and the Force, but being bombarded by an entire senate chamber's worth of emotions and thoughts in the air, all at once. She pitches forward off the chair, Kenobi catching her before she can collapse. She shakes uncontrollably, eyes wild with building tears, one hand clutching her head, ragged and pained breaths breaking through her mouth. From deprivation and loss of self to awareness and overload in one fell swoop. This image far more powerful than her just sitting vacant in the chair, though it is another moment of _weakness_ that he will have to suffer undermining his future enforcer.

But it has the desired effect. Any that had been against what he was doing quieted, many no longer considering what he requested crossing the line, but the recognition that something was wrong that needed to be stood against. For the few none-corrupt senators, bleeding hearts that they were, mistreatment was unacceptable even if they didn't care for the prisoner in question, or thought they deserved it. So high and mighty with their pathetic morals. So _weak_ with them, chained down and unwilling to do what needs to be done.

Sidious gives it a moment longer before he activates the microphone again, clearing his throat for attention and then speaking with heavy disapproval in what he is sure will be the first crowning point of his Chancellorship. "Master Jedi, while I refuse to believe her state is something you intentionally sought out, it pains me to say that I have never been more disappointed in the Jedi Order as I am right now. The Republic is a nation of law and order, of peace and equality, how we treat our people, from the position of Chancellor all the way down to a prisoner, is a reflection of our society and it's morals. All but confirmed in court to be guilty or not, they are owed certain undeniable rights by our democracy. Expunging upon these rights goes against what the Republic stands for, and is immoral."

He frowned, looking Siri over. "I, and the Naboo, have every right to detest the accused for her involvement in the suffering of our people. Despite this, I will recognize that the treatment she has received thus far is unacceptable. Especially if her _excessive_ confinement was grounded on fear of this ' _Dark Side_ '; religious prosecution was outlawed a long time ago, far before any of us were born, and I will not see that return under my watch."

He considered whether or not he could demand her transferred out of their keeping... but decided against it for now. If she ' _escaped'_ because of him doing so, it would reflect poorly on him after all. "I will not however overlook that yes, she is dangerous and that yes, the Jedi are most likely the only ones who can properly contain her. She will remain in your custody, but will not be placed back within that cell, am I clear?"

Master Windu appeared both relieved, and like he had swallowed something sour. "Yes, your excellency."

"Then I move this session to be adjourned, giving the accused one week to recover and sort herself out," said Sidious, "With the Jedi keeping the senate updated on her condition and if she requires more time."

And with that, he watched the Jedi turn and scurry away, carting his disoriented apprentice on a hover-chair out of the chamber...


End file.
